The Autobiography of 
Gurdon Saltonstall Hubbard 



S^nttotiuctiott 



"As soon as we arrived at the warehouse, 
we noticed a rather large man, put up in fine 
shape for an athlete, with dark hair and eyes, 
prominent nose, high cheek bones, large, firm 
mouth and strong face, showing great force 
of character, but withal a voice and smile so 
pleasing that we took to him at once, as a 
child to its mother. 

"'Who is he?' we asked a by-stander. 

** Why, that is the proprietor of the warehouse, 
Gurdon S. Hubbard. He is just as nature 
labeled him. He can outrun or outwalk any 
Indian, takes difficulties as you would dessert 
after dinner, seems to hanker after them, is as 
true as steel, with a heart as tender as any 
woman's. He is worth five hundred ordinary 
men to any town.' " 

Mr. Gale asserts that the cargo brought by 
the Illinois was the first cargo of general 
freight ever landed in Chicago. The sea- 
tossed passengers, after depositing their goods 
at the warehouse, repaired to the Green Tree 
Tavern. Apparently the utility of the big 
warehouse was being vindicated. 

In 1836 Mr. Hubbard built a warehouse 
fronting on Kinzie Street and the river, organiz- 
ing the firm of Hubbard & Co., in which 
Henry G. and Elijah K. Hubbard were asso- 
ciated with him. Not content with the irreg- 
ular craft occasionally visiting Chicago's wa- 
ters, they, with Pratt, Taylor & Co. of Buffalo, 
estabUshed the Eagle Line of vessels and 



S^ntrotiucticm 



steamers, plying between Chicago, Buffalo, and 
the Upper Lakes. This is considered to have 
been the first systematic carrying service at 
this port. The forwarding and commission 
business of Hubbard & Co. was greatly ex- 
tended. The fated Lady Elgin, lost in i860, 
the pride of the Lake Superior line, originally 
cost nearly $100,000. 

But Gurdon Hubbard was more than a mer- 
chant. In one corner of his warehouse in 1836 
was the first bank in Chicago, a branch of the 
Illinois State Bank, of which he was a director. 
The first insurance policy ever issued in Chicago 
was written by him in that year for the ^tna 
Company, whose representative he remained 
for over thirty years. 

Illustrative of his leadership in civic matters 
is the following item in The Chicago American 
of October 10, 1835: "We understand that 
G. S. Hubbard has ordered, on his own respon- 
sibility, a fire engine with the necessary appar- 
atus to be sent to Chicago immediately from 
the East. Individual responsibility being the 
only means offered for obtaining this important 
instrument of protection, we trust our citizens 
will avail themselves of this convenience by 
establishing a fire company without delay." 
The same man who swam the river to extin- 
guish the flames at Fort Dearborn in 1827, 
during the Winnebago War, was the first to see 
and supply the need of later days. We are 
glad to know that his engine was soon put to 



The Autobiography 

of Gurdon Saltonstall 

Hubbard 

PA-PA-MA-TA-BE 

"The Swift Walker" 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
BY 

CAROLINE M. McILVAINE 

Librarian of the Chicago Historical Society 



Ne Lakeside 

ess Chicago 




R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
CHRISTMAS, MCMXI 






Gin 

Fablistee* 



^nbW))m' preface 



IN procuring The Autobiography of Gurdon 
Saltonstall Hubbard as the subject for this 
year's volume in the series of The Lakeside 
Classics, the publishers believe they have found 
a book of interest and value. The text of the 
Autobiography is taken from the manuscript 
of the original Diary, now in the possession 
of the Chicago Historical Society, as it ap- 
peared in the memorial volume compiled by 
Mr. Henry E. Hamilton in 1888 for circulation 
only among the immediate friends of Mr. Hub- 
bard's family. This memorial volume has 
long been considered of value to book collec- 
tors, and especially to those interested in the 
history of the early Northwest. We accord- 
ingly feel gratified that we have obtained per- 
mission for a reprint, and are thereby enabled 
to give the Autobiography the wider circulation 
that its interest deserves. 

For the exhaustive Introduction, an acknowl- 
edgment of appreciation is due Miss CarohneM. 
Mcllvaine, Librarian of the Chicago Historical 
Society. Miss Mcllvaine brings to her task 
an intimate knowledge of the history of the 
Northwest, and, having enjoyed the friendship 
of Mrs. Hubbard, is particularly well fitted to 
prepare this edition for the press. 



^\Mi$\^tt$' deface 



As heretofore, the series continues to be 
the handiwork of the boys of the School for 
Apprentices of The Lakeside Press, and the 
book again goes forth to carry, at this season 
of good wishes, the fehcitations of the pub- 
lishers to their patrons and friends. 

THE PUBLISHERS. 



Christmas, 191 i. 



Contentjs 



PAGE 

Introduction ix 

Childhood.— Engagement with American 
Fur Co. — Mackinaw i 

First Year in the Indian Country. — 
Marquette Cross. — Chicago. — Fort 
Dearborn 28 

Mud Lake. — Isle La Cache. — Starved 
Rock. — Fort Clark. — Encounter with 
AN Indian. — St. Louis 41 

Shaub-e-nee. — Wa-ba and Che-mo-co-mon- 
ess. — Tippecanoe Battle Ground. — 
The Feast of the Dead 52 

Fishing in Muskegon Lake. — A Month 
in Solitude. — Lost in a Snow Storm. — 
Death of Dufrain 81 

Kalamazoo River. — Cosa.— An Accident. 
— A Visit. — Wolf Stories. — Crooked 
Creek 107 

Attacked by an Indian. — Alexis St. 

Martin. — Sleeping Bear . . . 125 

Pa-pa-ma-ta-be. — From St. Joseph to the 
Kankakee. — "Hubbard's Trail." — 
Under the Ice. — Peoria and St. Louis 141 

1824. — Placed in Charge of the Illinois 
River Trading Posts 153 

Trouble with Yellow Head. — Danville. 
— "Winnebago Scare." — In the Ohio 
River. — Ka-ne-kuck 160 



ginttJODuctton 



PROBABLY no one life presented so many 
of the phases of Chicago's Hfe-drama as 
did that of Gurdon Saltonstall Hubbard. 
The brief autobiography here reprinted deals 
with the earlier years only. It remains for us 
to round out the picture by a swift review of 
the later scenes, and to try to so adjust the 
focus that we may see the picture as a whole 
and realize its relation to our own lives. 
Born in Vermont, a descendant of the Con- 
necticut colonial governor, Gurdon Saltonstall, 
who was great-grandson of Sir Richard Sal- 
tonstall, Gurdon Hubbard bore, so far as 
ancestry is able to imprint it, the stamp of the 
metal from which America has been molded. 
But there was something else about Gurdon 
Hubbard than that which can be accounted for 
by ancestry. 

Leaving his adopted home in the Canadian 
wilderness at the age of sixteen, to descend 
with the voyageurs of the American Fur Com- 
pany through the waters traversed only a trifle 
over a century before by the explorers La 
Salle and Tonty, intimate as a brother with the 
Indians, and yet able to defend the whites 
from their treachery, possessed of the strength 
and skill of the former, with the diplomacy 



3^ntrotiuction 



and aplomb of the latter, swift of foot, huge 
of stature, Hubbard seems as he looms up in 
history like the survivor of some former race, 
— a giant whose youthful adventures might 
have been passed on by tradition, as of a 
being more than human. Something he un- 
doubtedly imbibed from the Indians, which, 
added to his own firm fiber, made him the 
hero that he was in the estimation of his con- 
temporaries, and rendered him, in a very true 
sense, a representative American. That he 
was able to adapt himself to civilization, and 
to infuse into others something of the fire 
which burned within him, is in large part, we 
believe, the secret of much of Chicago's 
extraordinary advance. If we have moved 
at a rapid pace, it is perhaps because that 
pace was set by Pa-pa-ma-ta-be, **The Swift 
Walker.'' 

Having passed the period of his apprentice- 
ship as a fur-trader while still a mere boy, 
Gurdon Hubbard was formally appointed to 
conduct a trading station on the Iroquois 
River in Illinois, for that same company, and 
later assumed the superintendence of all their 
posts on the Iroquois and Kankakee rivers and 
their tributaries, with headquarters at Dan- 
ville. This, of course, involved annual trips to 
Mackinaw, the headquarters of John Jacob 
Astor and his colleagues, the descent of Lake 
Michigan in open Mackinaw boats, a short 
stop at Chicago, and then the rivers and prai- 



^^nttotiuction 



ries of Illinois, with few but savages for friends 
at the outset. In 1827 Mr. Hubbard was ad- 
mitted to a share in the profits of the Ameri- 
can Fur Company, and in 1828 bought out 
their entire interests in Illinois. 

Just what the American Fur Company meant 
to Illinois it is difficult for us of the present 
to realize. But when we reflect that the few 
white settlements sprinkled here and there in 
the wilderness would have been practically out 
of touch with the world save for the river 
traffic carried on by this first of American 
"trusts/* and when we remember that the 
Indians were held in check not so much by 
force as by the self-interest of trade, we con- 
ceive its import to our forebears, not merely 
from the trade standpoint, but from the human 
side as well. 

Gurdon Hubbard was the last representative 
of this primitive form of barter in Illinois. 
But if last in point of time, he was first in 
initiative. He might be called the first com- 
mercial traveler, in the modern sense. Before 
his time the buyer had to come to the goods. 
Hubbard instituted the principle of carrying 
the goods to the buyer, not merely in bring- 
ing down the river, but in transporting them 
overland. Scuttling his Mackinaw boats in 
the South Branch of the Chicago River, as he 
narrates, he proceeded on foot to Big Foot's 
Lake (now Lake Geneva), procured pack- 
ponies, and wended his way down to the 



S^ntrotiuctiDn 



Wabash, dotting the plain with trading-posts 
as he went. 

The highway thus established was known 
as "Hubbard's Trail," and was for years the 
only well-defined road between Chicago and 
the Wabash country. Although Danville was 
his official headquarters at this time, Chicago 
was the objective point whither his supplies 
were brought by water, and whence they were 
shipped to the East. It is said that "subse- 
quent to 1822, no person lived about the 
mouth of the Chicago River who did not know 
this young, brave, and vigorous fur-trader.'* 

The more picturesque features of our hero's 
history ceased with the cessation of the fur 
traffic in Illinois, when the red man, after the 
last brave stand of Black Hawk, withdrew to 
reservations beyond the Mississippi. Here 
his own account leaves off. But the rest has 
become part of the recorded history of the 
state. Moreover, his widow survived until 
within a few years, and the present writer has 
listened to tales of the later times from her 
lips. So short has been the space between 
the primitive and the advanced stages of Chi- 
cago's "civilization." 

Not to every man is it given to bridge 
with his life-span the chasm between two 
epochs of history. In the year that Gurdon 
Hubbard first visited Chicago, Illinois emerged 
from territorial swaddhng-clothes. In that 
same year died George Rogers Clark, whose 



3^ntrotiuttion 



defense of the country northwest of the Ohio 
had saved us from British dominion. Before 
Gurdon Hubbard died, the Civil War had been 
fought, and Chicago had been transformed 
from a pahsaded fort surrounded by savages 
to the metropolis which in only five years 
would be selected as the site for the World's 
Columbian Exposition. Andreas, in his His- 
tory of Chicago, has stated that * * only a single 
man [Gurdon Hubbard] became identified with 
the modern commerce and trade of the city, 
who had been connected with the rude Indian 
trafiic which centered in Chicago in the earlier 
times." 

Sensing the coming change, Hubbard had 
begun, long before he made Chicago his perma- 
nent residence, to provide the Chicago market 
with pork. He was, in fact, the first * 'packer" 
purveying to this port. Collecting hogs from 
far and wide, he would store them on the river 
front, and whether because of the honesty of 
the early inhabitants, or the esteem in which 
Hubbard was held, these carcasses would not 
be molested though they remained an entire 
winter in the open, as in the winter of 1828-29. 
Prosaic ? Perhaps, but not so the far-reaching 
principle of taking the merchandise to the mart, 
and the sagacity which taught this backwoods- 
man where that mart was destined to be. In 
1834 Gurdon Hubbard went to Chicago to 
remain for the rest of his life, becoming known 
as the largest packer in the West. 



S^nttotiuction 



Upon the corner of La Salle and South 
Water streets, which at that time seemed very 
far west, he erected a large brick building, 
the first of its kind in the city. No sky-scraper 
of the present day ever called out the comment 
excited by this structure. There were only 
about five or six hundred inhabitants in the 
village, and what could a man want with a co- 
lossal building like that? It was christened 
''Hubbard's Folly," and stood up there a 
laughing-stock for all the world. In it Mr. 
Hubbard began to store his pork and other 
produce, but in quantities greatly in excess of 
the immediate needs of the townspeople. How 
did he expect to get rid of it? 

Mr. E. O. Gale in his Re?niniscences of Early 
Chicago has a picturesque account of the arrival 
off Chicago's shore, on the 25th of May, 1835, 
of a certain tight little brig Illinois, bringing 
himself and brother William with their parents, 
and, among other well-known families, that of 
our lamented friend and "oldest citizen,'* 
Fernando Jones. The brig being unable to 
land in the then condition of the harbor, the 
passengers found themselves conveyed to land 
by lusty French Canadians in birch-bark 
Mackinaw boats, which also served as lighters 
for the cargo, the whole, together with the 
household goods of the passengers, being de- 
posited at a certain large warehouse a little 
way up the river. Quoting Mr. Gale's charac- 
teristic manner of narration: 



^fntrotiuction 



use as "Fire King Engine No. I," and that 
another was added. Volunteer companies 
were organized to draw the engines, and foot- 
races between rival brigades became a favorite 
diversion in Chicago. 

The first water- works in Chicago, located at 
the foot of Lake Street, were operated by the 
Chicago Hydraulic Company, incorporated 
January i8, 1836, with a capital of $250,000, 
Gurdon Hubbard being one of the incorpora- 
tors. Owing to the panic of 1837 the works 
were not in operation until 1840, supplying the 
South and part of the West sides with water. 
The water was not of the best quality perhaps, 
and the log pipes may have leaked a little, but 
it was a brave effort in the right direction. 
The city saw that it would work, and in 1852 
bought out the company. 

The spirit of "individual responsibility'* 
seemed to be the watchword of Gurdon Hub- 
bard throughout. It is interesting to note how 
far the history of the city has been altered by 
this element. 

Chicago was incorporated as a town in the 
year 1833. In the following year, the year 
that brought Gurdon Hubbard here as a per- 
manent resident, the corporate limits of the 
town were extended by virtue of an act adopted 
February li, 1834, so as to include "all land 
lying east of State Street to the lake shore from 
Chicago Avenue and Twelfth Street, except 
the military reservation," which extended from 



^Fnttotiuction 



the river south to Madison Street. At the 
election of August 1 1, 1834, Gurdon Hubbard 
was chosen one of the town trustees, to serve 
with John Kinzie, E. Goodrich, J. K. Boyer, 
and J. S. C. Hogan. The city had gained in 
territory, but it had also gained a citizen with- 
out whose aid Chicago might have remained a 
village, while the metropolis was located else- 
where. This brings us to the epoch of the 
Illinois and Michigan canal. 

As long before as 1673, when the explorer 
Joliet had passed through this region, he had 
left a verbal record with Father Dablon as to 
the feasibility of a canal which would facilitate 
the passage from Lake Michigan to the Illinois, 
and thence, as the enthusiastic friar adds, "to 
China and Japan. ' ' La Salle, who was intensely 
practical, avoided the Chicago portage in 
favor of the Kankakee, whenever possible, and 
urged the Ohio and Wabash rivers as better 
waterways to the Illinois country, thus avoid- 
ing the long voyage through Lake Michigan. 
Gurdon Hubbard himself, as a fur-trader, had 
preferred the St. Joseph and Kankakee portage 
to the "delays and hardships of the old route 
through Mud Lake and the Desplaines." As 
we have seen, he was the first to employ ponies 
to transport his goods directly from the Chicago 
River to the southern settlements. No one 
knew better than he the need of a canal or 
railroad. 

In 1822 Congress granted the right of way 
xviii 



^Fnttotiuctxon 



across the public lands "for the route of a 
canal connecting the Illinois River with the 
south bend of Lake Michigan," followed five 
years later by the grant of 300,000 acres to aid 
in its construction. As representative of Ver- 
milion County in the Illinois General Assembly 
of 1832-33, Gurdon Hubbard introduced a 
bill for the construction of the Illinois and 
Michigan canal. It was passed by the House, 
but defeated in the Senate. He immediately 
substituted a bill fo. a railroad, defeated by 
only the casting vote of the presiding officer. 
Every session of the legislature thereafter 
found Mr. Hubbard present to urge the 
passage of a canal bill, until it was effected in 
the session of 1835-36. It is Hon. Henry W. 
Blodgett who states that Illinois owes a debt 
to Mr. Hubbard which has never been duly 
accredited to him; namely, the settlement of 
the question of the location of the terminus of 
the canal. It had been strongly urged that 
* * it would be cheaper to follow up the Calumet, 
to what is known as the Sag, and thence down 
the valley of the Desplaines River, than to cut 
through the hard ground between the south 
branch of the Chicago River and the Des- 
plaines. After hearing the arguments upon 
this point, Mr. Hubbard took a map and called 
the attention of the members to the fact that 
the mouth of the Calumet River is within a few 
hundred yards of the Indiana state line, and 
suggested that it was expected that wherever the 
xix 



S^ntrotiuttion 



canal terminated, a great city would grow up, 
and pertinently asked, whether it was desirable 
that the coming city should be as much of it 
in the state of Indiana as in Illinois, when the 
entire expense of construction would devolve 
upon our state. This practical view of the 
question settled it, and the mouth of the Chicago 
River was made the terminus instead of the 
mouth of the Calumet." Thus had the faith 
and courage of Chicago's champion saved her 
from a fate of possible mediocrity or extinction 
as a city. 

The first Board of Canal Commissioners 
consisted of Gurdon S. Hubbard, WilHam F. 
Thornton, and William B. Archer, who served 
until 1 84 1. When the first spadefuls of earth 
were dug at the commencement of the canal 
on the historic Fourth of July, 1836, the strong 
hands and long arms of Gurdon Hubbard 
wielded the spade, and the closing address con- 
sisted of his memories of the time when canoes 
were the only craft plying on Illinois waters, 
and the luckless trader who essayed the 
* 'Chicago portage" must wade waist-deep in 
the morass of Mud Lake, and spend his first 
leisure moments in removing the bloodsuckers 
which infested it. 

It was impossible to exaggerate the impor- 
tance of the canal to Chicago. Instantly she 
became the pivotal point of the commerce of 
the West as then known, of the region of the 
lower Mississippi, which had hitherto gone to 



3^ntrotiuction 



New Orleans for a port, and a nucleus for the 
emigration which was to people the untraveled 
areas of the Farther West. Chicago had 
* 'arrived.'* The East reached out to us, and 
even Europe became aware of our existence. 

But the canal was not completed in a day. 
That event did not occur until 1848. Mean- 
while the money was to be raised to pay for 
the work. Land had been apportioned for 
this purpose, and it must be sold. A govern- 
ment land office was established in Chicago. 
The expression **a land office business" has 
a peculiar significance in this part of the 
country, traceable to this period. Everybody 
dealt in land. Whatever a man's other busi- 
ness, he carried real estate *'on the side." 
Chicago lots were bandied about like wheat 
on the market. Perhaps no better idea of 
the nature of the transactions can be given 
than an account of a sale effected by Gurdon 
Hubbard, which appeared in the Sunday Times 
of October 24, 1875, as follows: 

" Early in the spring of 1835, about the month of 
March, Mr. Hubbard purchased, with two others, 
Messrs. Russell and Mather, what has since been 
known as Russell & Mather's addition to Chicago. 
This tract comprised eighty acres, and was bounded 
on the south by Kinzie Street, on the east by the 
river, on the north by Chicago Avenue, and then ran 
west to Halsted Street and beyond. For these 
eighty acres they paid $5,000. At that time one 
section of the prospective city was as desirable as 
another, but time has developed that this particular 
eighty acres was one of the most undesirable within 
xxi 



S^ntrotiuction 



the entire territory now embraced within the city 
limits. A few months after the purchase, Mr. Hub- 
bard had occasion to visit New York City, and to 
his surprise found the rage for Chicago real estate 
at a point where it might be called 'wild.* Having 
sought and received the consent of one of the part- 
ners who lived in Connecticut, he looked up an 
engraver, gave him such a sketch of the lay of the 
land as he could call up from memory, had a plat 
prepared, and from this plat, without any actual 
subdivision of the land, sold half of it at public 
auction for $8o,000. This within three or four 
months after paying $5,000. News of this transaction 
reached Chicago in the course of stage-coach time, 
but it was generally discredited, until Mr. Hubbard 
returned with the positive confirmation; and the — 
well, then, every man who owned a igarden patch 
stood on his head, imagined himself a millionaire, 
put up corner lots to fabulous figures, never could 
ask enough, which made him mad that he did not 
ask more." 

The Chicago Historical Society, by gift of 
one of Mr. Mather's descendants, Judge James 
H. Roberts, has come into possession of what 
appears to be the identical plat made by Mr. 
Hubbard for that * * addition, ' ' with manuscript 
annotations in Mr. Hubbard's own large, firm 
handwriting. 

Of course unscrupulous agents sprang up, 
selling lots which did not exist, and too trust- 
ing merchants were induced to give credit on 
paper Eldorados. Speculation finally passed 
all bounds, and in 1837, the very year of the 
incorporation of Chicago as a city, occurred a 
great financial panic. In all of the distressing 
times which followed, the rock-like integrity 



^Fntrotiuction 



of Gurdon Hubbard, together with his wide 
acquaintance as a former representative of the 
American Fur Company, stood Chicago in good 
stead. He and others hke him succeeded in 
keeping the substantial business of Chicago on 
a sound basis. The opening up of the agri- 
cultural resources of Illinois and the adjacent 
states, furthered by the shipping facilities 
newly inaugurated, prevented disaster, and at 
last, in 1848, the canal was triumphantly 
completed, with Chicago at its head, now a 
well-known commercial center. 

Gurdon Hubbard witnessed four wars during 
his lifetime, — the War of 1 8 12, which occurred 
in his childhood; the Winnebago War of 1827, 
centering at Fort Dearborn, of which he him- 
self tells the story in the following pages; the 
Black Hawk War of 1832, in which he acted 
as scout, and furnished the provisions, am- 
munition, and transportation wagons for the 
Vermilion County militia; and lastly, the 
Civil War. For a record of his activities 
in the latter conflict, we are indebted to a 
Biographical Sketch of Gurdon Saltonstall 
Hubbard, read before the Chicago Historical 
Society, April 16, ipoy^ by Henry E, 
Hatnilton. . . Mr. Hamilton writes: 

"Politically he was a Whig, and in t'.e Log-Cabin 
Hard-Cider campaign of 1840, he, vvith John H. 
Kinzie, George W. Dole, and others, was selected as 
a delegate to the Whig convention which was held 
at Springfield. They took with them a full-rigged 
ship, which was mounted on wheels, emblematical 



S^ntrotiuction 



not only of the Ship of State, but of the great com- 
mercial capital of this state, which they then believed 
Chicago was destined to become. 

"After the formation of the Republican party, Mr. 
Hubbard transferred his allegiance to that party, and 
with all his energy advocated its principles and 
worked for its success. He had long been a 
personal friend and admirer of Lincoln, and by his 
efiforts contributed largely to that gentleman's nom- 
ination. He was one of the committee that erected 
the Wigwam, at the southeast corner of Lake and 
Market streets, the building in which Lincoln was 
nominated for the presidency in May, i860. Asso- 
ciated with Mr. Hubbard on that committee were 
Charles N. Holden, Peter Page, Edward Ransom, 
and Sylvester Lind. At the breaking out of the Civil 
War, he gave freely of his time, and contributed 
largely of his means, in raising and equipping the 
troops, and was foremost in every enterprise organ- 
ized by the citizens to aid the government and pre- 
serve the Union." 

Mr. Hubbard was himself commissioned a 
captain of the Second Board of Trade Regi- 
ment (the 88th Illinois Volunteers). 

In the year 1868 Gurdon Hubbard's great 
packing house was destroyed by fire, and 
he never resumed the business. Soon after 
came the loss of the Superior ^ the steamer 
which he owned in partnership with A. T. 
Spencer, having many years before estab- 
lished a transportation line to Lake Superior. 
In 1 87 1 occurred the Chicago fire, which 
destroyed his property and his business, 
leaving him financially crippled. From this 
time he retired to private life, but not to 
inactivity. 

xxiv 



^Pntrotiuction 



One of the founders of St. James' Church, 
the first EpiscopaUan Church in Chicago, he 
worked for its welfare until such time as the 
growing conviction of belief in the principles 
of the Reformed Episcopal Church caused 
him, at much personal sacrifice in the way of 
friends and prestige, to adopt the doctrines and 
form of worship of the latter. 

The Chicago Historical Society has many 
gracious memories of Mr. Hubbard, who was 
a devoted member of the society for many years. 
The hospitahty of his home was proverbial. 
The writer recalls a story related to her by 
Mrs. Hubbard, of entertaining a house-party 
of friends from the East, when in their midst 
one day appeared Shaub-e-nee, the Indian chief, 
with his wife and grandchild. No thought of 
turning away even this unexpected guest 
occurred to the Hubbards, but, with true 
pioneer tact, having nothing better, they 
offered Shaub-e-nee the wood-shed, which to 
him was a palatial dwelling, in which he re- 
mained in great state for three weeks. This 
was during the last days of the old "Friend 
of the Whites," and is only an added incident 
of the many which show how long the mem- 
ory of kindness had persisted, and how much 
both Indian and white man owed to the hon- 
esty and courage of him who never betrayed 
a friend of any color. 

We are told by some of those who had a 
part in it that the home life of this man was, 

XXV 



^Fntrotiuction 



if possible, more worthy of emulation than his 
public career. All energy and strength abroad, 
he was all tenderness and solicitude at home, 
watching over and anticipating the wants of 
all his household with almost maternal devotion. 
In 1 83 1 Mr. Hubbard was united in marriage 
to Miss Elenora Berry, of Urbana, Ohio, who 
died in Chicago seven years later, six weeks 
after the birth of their son Gurdon S. Hub- 
bard, Jr., still a resident of this city. In 1843 
he was married to Miss Mary Ann Hubbard, 
who had come to Chicago with her parents, 
Ahira Hubbard and Serena Tucker, of Middle- 
borough, Mass., in 1836. About this ideal 
union romances might be woven, for Mrs. 
Hubbard became a leader in the simple social 
life that centered about the Kinzies, Ogdens, 
Doles, Russells, Hamiltons, Skinners, and 
others of the old North Side circle whose gra- 
cious hospitality deservedly became traditional, 
because it was truly gentle and sincere. 

In 1868, when Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard cele- 
brated their silver wedding and the fiftieth anni- 
versary of Mr. Hubbard's coming to Chicago, 
the guests at this thoroughly representative 
gathering were requested to register their names, 
with the dates of birth and arrival in Chicago, 
and this album is now numbered among the 
most precious treasures of the Historical So- 
ciety. At this period the Hubbard home, said 
to have been the finest residence in Chicago 
when it was built, stood surrounded by elabo- 



^^nttotiuction 



rate gardens on La Salle Avenue, facing Lo- 
cust Street, and was one of the well-known 
''places" of that day, when stately homes 
set in grounds an entire square in extent 
were characteristic of this section of the city. 
Gurdon Hubbard died at the age of eighty- 
four, September 14, 1886, and his funeral is 
still remembered, for it filled St. James* Church 
with the most remarkable gathering of early 
residents ever assembled there. A massive 
bronze tablet commemorative of his life was 
erected in the Chicago Historical Society's 
Building, by his devoted wife, shortly before her 
death, which occurred in 1909. The tablet 
bears the finely sculptured head of Mr. Hub- 
bard, framed between giant oak-trees, and 
below the legend: 

** Voices from afar off call us 
To pause and listen.'* 

This tablet, together with a short street on 
the South Side, which bears his name, are 
the only forms of public commemoration of 
Gurdon Hubbard in Chicago. 

It is with keenest pleasure, therefore, that 
we see this autobiography — at once a monu- 
ment to its author and a contribution toward 
the formation of Chicago's civic consciousness 
— brought to light at this Christmas season 
by The Lakeside Press. 

Caroline M. McIlvaine. 



xxvu 



€1)0 ^tutoBiograpfjp of 

dSurDon ^altonsitall f ubbarD 



CHILDHOOD. — ENGAGEMENT WITH 
AMERICAN FUR CO.— MACKINAW. 

I WAS born in Windsor, Vermont, August 
22, 1802. My father was Elizur Hubbard, 
the son of George Hubbard, an officer in 
the war of the Revolution, and Thankful 
Hatch. My mother was Abigal Sage, daughter 
of General Comfort Sage and Sarah Hamhn, 
of Middletown, Connecticut. 

My first recollection of events was the great 
eclipse of the sun about the year 1806, while 
walking with my mother in the garden. The 
impression made upon my mind by the strange 
and unnatural appearance of things has lasted 
to the present time. The white stage horses 
that were passing, to my vision appeared yel- 
low, and looking up to my mother I discovered 
that her face also appeared yellow, as did all 
the surroundings. I was so frightened I did 
not recover from it for some time. 

I cannot remember at what age I com- 
menced going to school, but the fact of a dis- 
like for books, from that time up to the age of 
thirteen, I do not forget. I was always plead- 
ing to be excused, and my indulgent mother 



€l)e auto6iograpf)p of 



too often granted my request. I was often 
truant and escaped punishment. 

My father was, by profession, a lawyer, but 
having entered into some speculations about 
the year 1810, in the fall of 18 12 he lost his 
property, and my Aunt Saltonstall invited me 
to her house, and influenced her son-in-law, 
the Rev. Daniel Huntington, to take me and a 
boy of about my age to educate. 

Accordingly, in November of that year, I went 
to Bridgewater, Massachusetts, and entered 
upon a course of studies, living in Mr. Hunt- 
ington's family, where my aunt also resided. 

I was very deficient in my education, but 
the winter passed pleasantly and I made fair 
progress in my studies. 

My father's misfortunes continued, and he 
became very poor, which I felt so keenly as to 
make me miserable and discontented. I con- 
stantly pleaded to be permitted to return home, 
and when, in the following winter, I learned 
that my father had fallen into still deeper 
trouble and had determined to go to Montreal, 
there to practice his profession, I was incon- 
solable; and as I had lost all interest in my 
studies, I was promised that I should return 
home in the spring. 

In the middle of the month of April follow- 
ing I started for my home, and a few days' 
travel by coach brought me to my parents, and 
about the first of May, 181 5, they, with their 
six children, of whom I was the eldest, started 



for Canada. On reaching Montreal, my father 
learned that he could not be admitted to prac- 
tice, as he was an American citizen, and by a 
new law of the Dominion a residence of five 
years would be required before he could be 
allowed to practice his profession. He, how- 
ever, took a house and kept boarders, by 
which, with the fees he earned as consulting 
attorney, he received enough to barely support 
his family, never having a cent to spare beyond 
their necessary wants. 

My first winter there I employed in small 
traffic, buying from Vermont farmers the rem- 
nants of their loads of poultry, butter, cheese, 
etc., and peddling them, from which I realized 
from eighty to one hundred dollars, all of 
which went into the family treasury. The 
capital with which I embarked in this enter- 
prise was twenty-five cents, and was kindly 
loaned me by Horatio Gates. / 

In the month of April, i8i6, my father 
procured for me a situation in the hardware 
store of John Frothingham, where I received 
for my services my board only. I was the boy 
of the store — slept on the counter, worked 
hard, and attended faithfully to my duties, and 
thus won the good will of all the clerks. I had 
but one intimate friend outside of the store, 
named John Dyde, whom I occasionally visited 
evenings. His father kept a boarding-house, 
where Mr. William Matthews, agent of the 
American Fur Company, boarded. 

3 



€1)0 aiutofiiograpftp of 



Mr. John Jacob Astor about this time in- 
structed Mr. Matthews to engage twelve young 
men as clerks, and one hundred Canadian voy- 
ageurs, and to purchase a quantity of goods for 
the Indian trade, to be transferred in batteaux 
manned by these voyageurs, and to report there- 
with to Ramsey Crooks, manager at Mackinaw, 
Michigan. This expeditiop( was to leave Mon- 
treal early in May, i8i8, and to proceed as 
rapidly as possible to its place of destination. 

Visiting my friend Dyde one evening, he 
told me of this, and that he was trying to 
prevail upon his father and mother to procure 
for him an engagement with the Fur Com- 
pany as one of the twelve clerks. He being 
then but eighteen years old, his parents opposed 
it on account of his youth, and Mr. Matthews 
also discouraged the idea; yet he continued 
his efforts, and finally obtained their consent, 
and informed me of his good fortune. 

The expedition was the subject of frequent 
conversations between us, and I also became 
desirous of being employed; my disposition to 
go increased each time we met, and I finally 
ventured to mention the subject to my father 
and mother, but they only laughed at the idea, 
saying Mr. Matthews would not engage John, 
as he wanted men, and not boys; that John 
was not eighteen and I not sixteen. And 
though I was thus put off, I was not wholly 
discouraged. 

Time passed on and April was near at hand. 
4 



<(Burtion Jjalton^tall i^u6Barti 

One morning John came into the store, his 
countenance beaming with joy, and announced 
that Mr. Matthews had promised to take him. 
**Oh!" said he, *'I wish you could go with 
me, but it is of no use to try. It was hard 
work to induce Mr. Matthews to take me, 
because I was not old enough, and besides I 
am the twelfth, and the youngest by four years. 
I am to get one hundred dollars advanced to 
purchase my outfit." I don't know what in- 
duced me to make any further effort, but I still 
felt there was a chance. 

I could not help crying, and when West, 
the oldest clerk, inquired the cause, I told him. 
"Why, Gurdon," ^e said, "you don't want to 
go among the Indians. You could not endure 
the hardships. What a fool you are to think 
of it. Don't give it another thought. We all 
like you here. Stick by us, and rise as you 
will be sure to. Mr. Frothingham has not a 
word to say against you. He knows you have 
done your duty, and in time will advance you. 
So give up the idea." 

Just then Mr. Frothingham came in, and, 
noticing me, asked what was the matter. I 
did not reply, but cried. When West told 
him, he said I had a foolish notion. 

I requested leave of absence for the day and 
night to go home (my father then living at the 
foot of the mountain), which he granted. I 
was not long in reaching home, though it was 
about three miles. 



€l)e autoBiograpI)p of 



My father was not at home when I arrived, 
but I told my story to mother, and I thought 
she was not as strong in her opposition as 
formerly. When father came I broached the 
subject to him, and he said I was crazy. I 
said, "Crazy or not, I want to go, and will if 
Mr. Matthews will take me,*' for which speech 
I received a reprimand. This, however, did 
not deter me. I kept on teasing for his per- 
mission until he finally said, *'If your mother 
is wiUing, you can go and see Mr. Matthews." 
She put me off until morning. 

I suppose they had a consultation. Indeed, 
I know that they concluded that Mr. Matthews 
would reject me. They both knew him, and 
had both been to his office that day, where 
my father was employed in writing articles 
of agreement for the voyageurs to sign. My 
father knew that Mr. Matthews had his full 
complement of clerks. 

In the morning I received permission from 
my parents to go and see Mr. Matthews, with 
the understanding that if he would engage me 
they would consent to my going. 

Now, the question was, how to approach 
Mr. Matthews, and I formed many plans, but 
finally, trusting to Mr. Dyde for an introduc- 
tion, and getting him to get his parents to 
offer my services and intercede for me on the 
ground of my friendship for their son, an inter- 
view with Mr. Matthews was had. He told me 
that he had his full complement of clerks and 
6 



men engaged, and that I was really too young 
to go; but he finally said tome, "If you can 
get your parents' consent I will engage you for 
five years and pay you one hundred and twen- 
ty dollars per year, more on account of John 
Dyde than anything else, as he wants you to 
go with him." I then knew the negotiation 
was ended, as I had my father's word, which 
never failed. 

I sought my father and reported, and he 
and my mother were sorely disappointed and 
grieved, but offered no further opposition. 

The agreement was soon thereafter signed, 
and I drew fifty dollars which my mother 
expended for my outfit. A part of my outfit 
consisted of a swallow-tail coat (the first I ever 
had) and pants and vest, all of which were 
much too large for me, and designed to be filled 
by my future growth. 

The clerks were allowed a small wooden 
chest in which to keep their outfit, for which 
the company charged them three dollars; the 
chest and contents weighed about sixty pounds. 
In one of these my wardrobe was packed, with 
other necessary articles prepared by my mother. 

Every preparation having been made for my 
departure, I reported myself in readiness. 

Orders were issued for the voyageurs to 
report on the 1st of May at Lachine, and the 
clerks were to report at the same place on the 
13th of May, at ten o'clock a. m. 

Mr. Wallace, with three or four clerks, was 
7 



€|)e ^uto6io0rajrt)p of 



detailed to take charge of the loading of the 
boats on May 1st. / 

On the 13th of May, 181 8, having bid adieu 
to my mother and sisters, I started with my 
father and brother for Lachine, where I arrived 
about nine o'clock in the morning and reported 
for duty. 

The boats were all loaded, the clerks and 
voyageurs were there, and many friends and 
relatives had assembled to bid them farewell; 
all were strangers to me, except my friend 
Dyde, Mr. Matthews and Mr. Wallace. 

To Mr. Wallace was assigned the duty of 
arranging the crews, and detailing the clerks 
to the different boats. Mr. Wallace was a 
Scotchman, and was one of a party who was 
sent by Mr. Astor to the Columbia River on 
an expedition which was broken up by the war 
of 1 8 12. He, with others, returned overland; 
their vessel, having been attacked by Indians, 
was blown up by one of the men on board. 
He was a man of large experience and of great 
energy and capacity, and, like most Scotch- 
men, was a strict disciplinarian, with a power- 
ful will and of undaunted courage. 

Though sixty-two years have passed since 
then, I distinctly remember the animating and 
affecting scene presented that morning. All 
being ready for the departure, it was announced 
that a half-hour would be given for leave- 
taking, and during that time every man was 
at liberty and under no restraint. Then came 
8 



oBurtion ^alton^tall i^u66arti 



the parting embraces; tears and blessings being 
showered on all. 

Mr. Matthews had embarked in the largest 
boat, which was gaily decorated, and manned 
by a picked crew of voyageurs. 

The time for leave-takings having expired, 
Mr. Wallace, in a loud voice, gave the com- 
mand, "To boats all "; and in a few moments 
all hands were aboard and pushing off from 
the shore amid cheers and farewell shouts. 

The voyageurs in Mr. Matthews' boat started 
the boat song, which was joined in by all the 
voyageurs and clerks in the expedition. Stout 
arms and brave hearts were at the oars, and 
the boats fairly flew through the blue waters of 
the St. Lawrence River. 

My friend Dyde and myself had been as- 
signed to the same boat, a favor we recognized 
as coming from Mr. Matthews. 

I cannot describe my feelings as I looked 
back upon the forms of my father and brother, 
from whom I was then about to be separated. 
Nor did I, until that time, realize my situation 
or regret my engagement. The thought that 
I might never again see those most dear to me 
filled my soul with anguish. Bitter tears I 
could not help shedding, nor did I care to. 

When the boats stopped for lunch at noon, 

the clerks were invited to meet Mr. Matthews, 

and were then introduced to each other, Mr. 

Matthews making a short speech to them. 

Our lunch consisted of wine, crackers and 



€1)0 ^utofiiograpfip of 



cheese, and in a half-hour from the time of 
halting we resumed our journey. 

About four o'clock in the afternoon we 
camped for the night. The clerks all messed 
with Mr. Matthews, in a mess-tent provided 
for the purpose. One small sleeping tent was 
allotted to four clerks. 

The men had no shelter except tarpaulins, 
which, in stormy weather, were placed upon 
poles, thus forming a roof. Log fires were 
kindled at either or both ends, and each man 
was provided with one blanket. 

The voyageurskept their clothing and tobacco 
in linen or tow bags provided by the company 
for that purpose. The clerks were supplied 
with a thin mattress, upon which two slept, 
and a blanket each, and a small tarpaulin in 
w^hich to roll up their mattress and blankets. 

The tarpauHn also served as a carpet for the 
tents. 

The men were fed exclusively upon pea soup 
and salt pork, and on Sunday an extra allow- 
ance of hard biscuit. The tables of the clerks 
were also supplied with salt pork and pea soup, 
and in addition thereto, with tea, sugar, hard 
bread, and such meats as could be procured 
from time to time. 

All took breakfast at daybreak, and soon 
after sunrise the boats were under way. One 
hour was allowed at noon for dinner, and at 
sundown we camped for the night, which made 
a long day of hard work for the men, though 

10 



oButtion ^alton^tall i^ufifiatti 

they were occasionally allowed ten minutes "to 
pipe," /. e., to fill their pipes for smoking. 

Our boats were heavily laden, and our pro- 
gress up the swift St. Lawrence was necessarily 
slow. Some days, when we had "rapids" to 
overcome, three to five miles was the full day's 
journey. And where the rapids were heavy, 
the crews of three, and sometimes four boats 
were allotted to one, seven or eight of the 
men being in the water, pushing and pulling 
and keeping the boat from sheering into the 
current. 

Two men remained in the boat, one in thp' 
bow, the other at the stern, with iron-pointed 
poles to aid the men in the water, and to steer 
and keep her bow heading the current, the rest 
of the men on the shore pulling on a rope which 
was attached to the bow. Yet with all this 
force, the current at times was so strong the 
boat would scarcely move; and the force of 
the current would raise the water to the very 
top of the "cut- water," and sometimes even 
over the sides of the boat. 

On several occasions, the boat and men 
were dragged back until they found an "eddy," 
when all would stop and rest for another effort. 
This work was very severe on the men, they 
toiling from early morning until night, with 
only an hour's interval at noon, and an occa- 
sional respite while stemming a swift current. 

Great dissatisfaction prevailed among the 
voyageurs, and, desertions becoming frequent, 
II 



€l&e 9luto£iiograp]^p of 



guards were established at night, consisting of 
the clerks; and yet scarcely a morning appeared 
that some were not missing. We, however, 
moved steadily along, making a daily average 
of about fifteen'' miles, we clerks, sauntering, 
whenever inchnation led us, on the banks, or 
sometimes inland for several miles, stopping 
at houses occasionally and chatting with the 
inmates, where we were always cordially re- 
ceived, and often treated to the best they had. 
The news of the advancing brigade preceded us, 
and we found them fully posted as to our com- 
ing. At one time we received a pleasant visit 
from the late Hiram Nor^ton, of Lockport, 
Illinois, who then resided on the St. Lawrence; 
and then began an acquaintance which in later 
years ripened into a warm friendship. 

Notwithstanding these excursions and the 
beauty and variety of the scenery through which 
we passed, our daily routine became extremely 
monotonous. We were about a month in reach- 
ing Toronto,"^ then called ' ' Little York, ' ' a 
small town of about three hundred inhabitants, 
mostly Canadian French. By this time the 
number of our men was greatly reduced by 
desertions, and Mr. Matthews began to fear 
that he would be obliged to leave some of the 
boats for want of crews. The hard work, 
however, was over, as from that point there 
was no more current to hinder our progress. 
Here Mr. Matthews changed our route, and 
instead of passing through Lake Erie via 

12 



oBurtion ^altott^tan I^uBBarti 

Buffalo, as was intended, he hired ox teams, 
loading our goods in carts, and detailing most 
of the clerks to accompany them over to what 
was called ** Youngs Street," to Lake Simcoe, 
where we encamped and remained some two 
weeks, until all our boats were hauled over 
and launched into that romantic little lake and 
reloaded. Two yoke of cattle were also put 
on board one of the boats. We struck camp 
and proceeded to the other end, where the 
goods and boa^, with the help of the oxen, 
made the Not-ta-wa-sa-ga portage, into the 
river of the^same name. Though this portage 
was onlyvsii miles, we were a week convey- 
ing our goods and boats across. During this 
time we were nearly devoured with mosquitos 
and gnats. We were in an uninhabited wilder- 
ness, with no road over the low swamp lands. 
Desertion among the men had ceased, for the 
very good reason that there was no chance to 
escape. All rejoiced when we were again in 
our boats, and, with the current aiding us, 
swept down the winding course of the Notta-'^ 
wasaga River. The worst of the journey was 
now over, and with lightened hearts the voya- 
geurs again lifted their voices and joined in the 
melodious boat songs. We descended the 
river "to Lake_Huron, which we coasted. 

Early in the aftefrfoon of the third of July 
we reached Goose' Island, and camped in sight 
of Mich-il-i-mac-i-nac, "The Great Turtle," 
the wind being too strong from the west to 

13 



€f)e 9lntD6iograpI)p of 



admit of our crossing the open lake. How- 
ever, as the island abounded in gull's eggs, 
we spent an agreeable evening around our 
camp fires, feasting on them. 

As the lake was still rough, the morning of 
the fourth being too stormy to venture across, 
we devoted the time to washing, and dressing 
in our best clothing, not so much in commemora- 
tion of the day, as of our joy at the sight of 
that beautiful island where our wearisome voy- 
age was to end, thankful that we had been 
brought in safety, without accident, through so 
many difficulties and perils. We became so 
impatient at the delay that about two o'clock 
in the afternoon we started across, but the 
wind continued so high that the passage took 
about three hours, and we were unable to 
round the point of the island, but were com- 
pelled to land on the east side, at the foot of 
^* Robinson's Folly." 

Here we were met by Messrs. Ramsey Crooks 
and Robert Stewart, the managers of the 
American Fur Company, together with a host 
of clerks and voyageurs^ who extended to us a 
cordial welcome, and thus we celebrated the 
fourth of July, i8i8. 

On this island lived old voyageurs, worn out 
with the hard service incident to their calling, 
with their famihes of half-breeds. 

A few, only, of the inhabitants engaged in 
trade. Mrs. Mitchell, an energetic, enterpris- 
ing woman, the wife of Dr. Mitchell, a surgeon 
14 



<©urti0n ^afton^taH i^u66atti 

of the English army, and stationed at Drum- 
mond's Island, had a store and small farm. 
Michael Dousman, Edward Biddle, and John 
Drew were also merchants, all depending on 
trading with the Indians. 

These merchants, to a very great extent, were 
unde^he influence of the American Fur Com- 
pany, purchasing most of their goods from 
them, and selling^to them their furs and peltries^ 

This island was the headquarters of the 
American Fur Company, and here I first learned 
something of the working and discipline of 
that mammoth corporation, and took my first 
lessons in the life of an Indian trader, a life 
which I followed exclusively for 'ten consecu- 
tive years. Here, also, was located Fort 
Mackinaw, at that time garrisoned by three or 
four companies of United States troops. The 
village had a population of about five hundred, 
mostly of Canadian French and of mixed Indian 
blood, whose chief occupation was fishing in 
summer and hunting in winter. There were 
not more than twelve white women on the 
island, the residue of the female population 
being either all or part Indian. Here, during 
the summer months, congregated the traders 
employed by the Fur Company, bringing their 
collections from their several grading posts, 
which extended from the British dominion^^on 
the north and the Missouri River in the we^t, 
south and east to the white settlements; in 
fact, to all the Indian hunting grounds, so that 
15 



€6e autoBiograplip of 



when all were collected they added three thou- 
sand or more to the population. 

The Indians from the shores of the upper 
lakes, who made this island a place of resort, 
numbered from tw^ to three thousand more. 
Their wigwams lined the entire beach two or 
three rows deep, and, with the tents of the 
traders, made the island a scene of life and ani- 
mation. The voyageurs were fond of fun and 
frolic, and the Indians indulged in their love 
of liquor, and, by the exhibition of their war, 
medicine, and other dances and sports, often 
made both night and day hideous with their 
yells. These voyageurs were all Canadian 
French, and were the only people fitted for the 
life they were compelled to endure, their cheer- 
ful temperament and happy disposition making 
them contented under the privations and hard- 
ships incident to their calling. 

At the time of our arrival, all the traders 
from the North and the Great West had reached 
the island with their returns of furs collected 
from the Indians during the previous winter, 
which were being counted and appraised, and 
the profit or loss of each "outfit" ascertained. 

All of the different outfits were received into 
a large warehouse, where they were assorted 
into various classes or grades, carefully counted, 
packed, and pressed for shipment to New York 
to John Jacob Astor, the president of the com- 
pany. 

The work of assorting required expert 
i6 



45uttion J>afton^taIl i^ufiBarti 

judges of furs, a nice discrimination between 
the different grades being necessary, as prices 
varied vgry greatly, there being as many as six 
grades. Marten (sable), for example, being 
classed as extra fine dark, number one dark, 
number two dark, number one fine brown, 
number two fine brown, number one fine, com- 
mon, number two common, number three com- 
mon, good, out of season, inferior, damaged, 
and worthless. The value of the fur of this 
animal depended as much on color as fineness, 
and was found in the greatest variety of shades 
of color, and, with the exception of silver-gray 
fox, was the most valuable. Mink, muskrat, 
raccoon, lynx, wild cat, fox, wolverine, badger, 
otter, beaver, and other small fur animals, 
received the same care, except there were 
fewer grades of quality. In bear skins, only, 
were there more than four grades, but in those 
the discrimination was nearly equal to marten, 
being extra fine black she, number two ditto, 
fine number one, number two ditto, and fine, 
coarse, and numbers one, two, and three he 
bear. Deer skins required but little skill in 
assorting; they were classed as red doe, red 
buck, blue doe, blue buck, season doe, season 
buck, out of season, and damaged. 

The commanders of outfits were deeply 
interested in the assortment of their furs, and 
were very watchful to see that justice was 
done them; for upon this depended their bal- 
ance sheets of profit or loss. Hence, frequent 
17 



€f)c auto6xostapI)p of 



disputes arose as to the grade and value of the 
skins. 

Mr. Matthews had the general management 
of the fur warehouse, and on arrival assumed 
the charge. After a few days I was ordered 
to report to him, and then commenced my first 
instructions in the fur trade. 

It was my business to make a second count 
in order to verify the first. The first count 
was entered on a book not seen by me, and if 
mine corresponded with it, the furs were placed 
in a frame, pressed, marked, and rolled into 
the shipping wareroom. If, however, my 
count did not agree with the first, I was re- 
quired to make a second count, and if there 
was still a discrepancy, a third person was 
called upon to recount them. This work took 
about two months, the working hours being 
from five o'clock in the morning to twelve 
noon, and from one to seven in the afternoon, 
and, as I was obliged to maintain a stooping 
posture, was severely fatiguing. 

About one hundred voyageurs were detailed 
to assist in this business, and were kept under 
strict discipline. Most of them were experi- 
enced, and were generally contented and happy, 
each working with a will, knowing that Macki- 
naw fatigue duty came but once in four years, 
and that if they lived through the succeeding 
three years, their time at headquarters could 
be spent in comparative ease and comfort. 

A party was also organized to cut wood on 
i8 



/' = 

Bois Blanc, and bring it in boats to the island 
for the use of the agents and employes who 
remained there; this party consisted of about 
twenty-five picked choppers, under the charge 
of one of the clerks detailed for that purpose. 
Another party was employed in lyeing (hulling) 
corn, and drying and putting up for the use of 
those remaining on the island, and for supply- 
ing the various outfits soon to leave for their 
trading posts. 

The daily ration issued by the commissary 
to a mess of from six to ten men, consisted of 
one pint of lyed or hulled and dried corn, with 
from two to four ounces of tallow, to each man; 
and this was all the food they received, except 
that on Saturday flour was given them for 
Sunday pancakes. It would seem that this 
was a very short and light ration for healthy, 
hard-working men, but it was quite sufficient, 
and generally more than they could consume. 
It was invariably liked by them, and it was 
found that they could endure more hardships 
on this than on a diet of bread and meat. 

Those who came from Canada, their first 
season, and who were called mange-du-/ard, 
or * * pork-eaters, ' ' were usually much dissatis- 
fied and angered with this ration, as/ on the 
voyage up they were fed on pork, pease, and 
hard bread, and the change was anything but 
agreeable to them. They were, however, soon 
laughed out of it by the old voyageurs, who 
told them that many of them would be thankful 

19 



€&e ^utofiiograplip of 



for even that before they returned from their 
winter quarters. 

The Company had a yard in which were 
made and repaired their own boats, and where 
were manufactured traps, tomahawks, and 
other articles from iron. Other parties of the 
men were detailed to assist the mechanics 
in this work. 

Most of the clerks were assigned to duty 
either in charge of the different gangs of men 
or in the wholesale and retail stores and offices. 
From these duties the heads of outfits were 
exempt. 

The force of the Company, when all were 
assembled on the island, comprised about four 
hundred clerks and traders, together with 
some two thousand voyageurs. About five 
hundred of these were quartered in barracks, 
one hundred lived in the agency house, and 
the others were camped in tents and accom- 
modated in rooms of the Islanders. 

Dances and parties were given every night 
by the residents of the island in honor of the 
traders, and they, in their turn, reciprocated 
with balls and joUifications, which, though not 
as elegant and costly as those of the present 
day, were sufficiently so to drain from the 
participants all the hard earnings of the winter 
previous. 

In each "brigade,'* or outfit, was to be 
found one who, from superior strength or 
bravery, was looked upon as the "bully" of 

20 



that crew of voyageurs, and who, as a dis- 
tinguishing mark, wore a black feather in his 
cap. 

These *' bullies" were generally good fight- 
ers, and were always governed by the rules of 
fair play. It was a rule, and was expected, 
that they should fight each other; hence it was 
not an uncommon thing to see a fight. The 
vanquished one gave up his black feather to 
the conqueror, or shook hands with him, and 
they both joined with the lookers on in a glass 
of beer or whisky as good-naturedly as though 
nothing unpleasant had occurred. 

The majority of the inhabitants of the island 
were of mixed blood — Canadian and Indian — 
and those who were of pure blood, and were 
heads of families, had Indian wives. Their 
children, though uneducated, were usually 
bright and intelligent, and fond of finery, 
dancing, and other amusements. There were a 
few of the half-breeds who had received a com- 
mon education, either in English or French, 
which was generally of little use to them, as 
they were mostly too lazy or proud to earn a 
livehhood. 

Among the Indian or part Indian women 
who were, or had been, married to white hus- 
bands, were found some of great intellectual 
capacity^ who carried on an extensive trade 
with the Indians, one of whom was the Mrs. 
Mitchell before referred to; she had a store 
and a farm, both under excellent management, 

21 



€f)e aut06to0rapf)p of 



and her children had been well educated in 
Canada. This woman's husband was a Scotch- 
man and a surgeon in the English army, and 
while the island of Mackinaw was in the pos- 
session of England he was stationed there; 
removing afterwards to Drummond's Island, 
he rarely visited his family, though only fifty 
miles distant. He was a man of strong preju- 
dices, hated the '* Yankees," and would hold 
no social intercourse with them. 

Mrs. Mitchell was quite the reverse, and 
being rather partial to the ** Yankees, " treated 
them with great consideration; she was a fine 
housekeeper and owned one of the best houses 
on the island; she was fond of good society, 
very hospitable, and entertained handsomely, 
conversing in French and English, both of 
which she spoke fluently. 

Another of these women was Mrs. Lafrom- 
boise', who also traded with the Indians in 
the interior, usually up the Grand River of 
Michigan; her daughter was highly educated, 
and married the commanding officer at Fort 
Mackinaw. 

Mrs. Lafromboise could read and write, and 
was a perfect lady in her manners and conver- 
sation; she was a widow, her husband, who was 
a trader, having been shot and killed by an 
Indian on the Mississippi River; she took his 
place and business and accumulated consider- 
able money. She was afterwards employed on 
a salary by the American Fur Company. 

22 



Mrs. Chandler, a sister of Mrs. Lafromboise, 
was also noted for her ladylike manners and 
many Christian virtues. Her husband was an 
invalid and her daughter a widow. This 
daughter was also highly educated and was 
considered the belle of Mackinaw; she after- 
ward married Mr. Beard, a lawyer of Green 
Bay, Wisconsin. 

It was my good fortune to be received into 
these excellent families as a welcome visitor, 
and they all took an interest in me and my wel- 
fare, calling me their * * boy clerk. ' * My leisure 
evenings were passed with them, much to my 
pleasure and advantage. From them I received 
much good advice, as well as instruction in the 
method of conducting trade with the Indians, 
which was of much benefit to me in my after 
life as a trader. -^ 

It was also my good fortune to form the^ 
acquaintance of Mr. Deschamps, who was an,' 
old man and the head of the ^'lUinois outfit /^y 

Mr. Deschamps had been educated at Quebec 
for a Roman CathoHc priest, but, refusing to be 
ordained, he, at the age of nineteen, engaged 
himself to Mr. Saraj a fur trader at St. Louis, 
and had devoted many years of his life to the 
Indian trade on the Ohio and Illinois Rivers. 
When the American Fur Company was organ- 
ized he was engaged by them and placed in 
charge of the ** Illinois brigade," or outfit. 

It was the policy of the American Fur Com- 
pany to monopolize the entire fur trade of the 
--- 23 



€f)e autobiograpljp of 



) 



^ 

Northwest; and to this end they engaged fully 
nineteen-twentieths of all the traders of that 
territory, and with their immense capital and 
influence suoJ^eded in breaking up the business 
of any trader who refused to enter their service. 

Very soon after reaching Mackinaw and 
making returns, the traders commenced organ- 
izing their crews and preparing their outfits 
for their return to winter quarters at their 
various trading posts, those destined for the 
extreme North being the first to receive atten- 
tion. These outfits were called "brigades.'* 

The "brigade" destined for the Lake of 
the Woods, having the longest journey to 
make, was the first to depart. They were 
transported in boats called batteaux^ which 
very much resembled the boats now used by 
fishermen on the great lakes, except tha't they 
were la/ger, and were each manned by a crew 
of five^men besides a clerk. Four of the men 
rowed while the fifth steered. Each boat car- 
ried about three tons of merchandise, together 
with the clothing of the men and rations of 
corn and tallow. No shelter was provided for 
the voyageurs, and their luggage was confined 
to twenty pounds in weight, carried in a bag 
provided for that purpose. 

The commander of the "brigade" took for 
his own use the best boat, and with him an 
extra man, who acted in the capacity of 
"orderly" to the expedition, and the will of 
the commander was the only law known. 
24 



oButtion ^afton^tall i^ufiBarti 

The clerks were furnished with salt pork, a 
bag of flour, tea and coffee, and a tent for 
shelter, and messed with the commander and 
orderly. 

A vast multitude assembled at the harbor 
to witness their departure, and when all was 
ready the boats glided from the shore, the 
crews singing some favorite boat song, while 
the multitude shouted their farewells and 
wishes for a successful trip and a safe return; 
and thus outfit after outfit started on its way 
for Lake Superior, Upper and Lower Missis- 
sippi, and other posts. 

The *' Wabash and Illinois river outfits'* 
were almost the last, and were speedily 
followed by the smaller ones for the shores of 
Lakes Huron and Michigan, and which con- 
sisted of but from one to three boats. 

I was detailed to the Fond-du-Lac (Lake 
Superior) "brigade," and a week or so before 
its departure was relieved from duty at the fur 
warehouse. 

About this time I received a letter from my 
father, written at Erie, Pennsylvania, in which 
he informed me that he and my brother were 
there on their way to St. Louis, and that they 
had waited there a week looking for the Fur 
Company's vessel, which it was expected would 
touch there on her way from Buffalo to 
Mackinaw, upon which they hoped to obtain 
passage, and thus visit me, and if they found 
no way of proceeding to St. Louis from there, 

25 



€l^e autobiogtapl^p of 



they would return on the vessel to Erie; but 
fearing she had passed, and being uncertain 
whether they should find me on the island, 
they had reluctantly concluded to continue their 
journey by way of Cincinnati. 

I had before this been told by Mr. Des- 
champs that he made a trip every fall to St. 
Louis,'' with one boat, to purchase supplies of 
tobacco and other necessaries for distribution 
among the various traders on the Illinois 
River; and as he had seemed fond of me, and 
possessed my confidence, I went immediately 
to him with my letter, thinking to advise with 
him, and, perhaps, to send by him an answer 
to my father. After hearing my story, he 
delighted me by saying, * * Would you like to 
go with me, if it can be so arranged?'* to which 
I answered affirmatively, and begged for his 
influence and efforts to that end. 

A Mr. Warner, a fellow clerk from Mont- 
real, had been detailed to Mr. Deschamps' 
** brigade." 

"Now," said Mr. Deschamps, ''if you can 
get Mr. Warner to consq^nt to an exchange, I 
think I can get Mr. Crooks' permission; I can 
see no objection to it, and as I am the party 
mostly interested, I think it can be arranged 
with him; you must first, however, obtain Mr. 
Warner's consent, and then I will see what I 
can do." 

So off I started, letter in hand, to see 
Warner, not daring to hope for success; but 
26 



45utl!on ^afton^tall !^uB6arti 

to my surprise I found he preferred going 
north to south, and would gladly make the 
change. I reported to Mr. Deschamps, and 
he, seeing my anxiety, took my letter and went 
immediately to Mr. Crooks, who gave his 
consent, and with it an order to the book- 
keeper to change the names in the details; you 
may feel certain that I felt much rejoiced at 
my good fortune. Thus my desire of finding 
my father in St. Louis was the probable cause 
of an entire change in my destiny, for, instead 
of being located in the cold regions of the 
North, where my friend Warner froze to death 
that winter, my lot was cast in this beautiful 
State .^ 

During my stay at Mackinaw I had made 
the acquaintance of John H. Kinzie, a clerk 
of about my own age, and our acquaintance 
had ripened into an intimacy. He had entered 
the service of the Company that spring, and 
was stationed permanently at Mackinaw, and 
was not to be sent int^ the Indian country. 
His father then resided at Chicago, and I had 
learned of the great hospitality of the family, 
and of the high esteem felt for them by all 
who knew them; and as I had also been told 
that we should make a stop of a week or more 
at Chicago, there to make our arrangements 
for crossyig our boats and goods to the 
Desplaines River, I gladly accepted letters of 
introduction which he kindly proffered me, 
to his father and family. 
27 



€1)0 autofiiograpljp of 



Through my intimacy with John I had become 
quite famiHar with the appearance of the Kin- 
zie family and their surroundings. I knew 
that Fort Dearborn was located at Chicago, 
then a frontier post; that it was garrisoned by 
two companies of soldiers, and that on my 
arrival tljere I should for the first time in my 
life see a^ prairie; and I felt that my new detail 
was to take me among those who would be my 
friends, and was happy in the thought. 

FIRST YEAR IN THE INDIAN COUNTRY. 
—MARQUETTE CROSS. — CHICAGO. — 
FORT DEARBORN. 

The time of our departure soon arrived, and 
about noon 6n the lOth of September, i8i8, 
our "brigade" left the harbor in twelve boats. 

Mr. Deschamps took me in his boat, and led 
the way, with his fine, strong voice starting the 
boat song, in which all the crews heartily joined. 

The people on the shore bid us a "God 
speed," and joined with us in the hope for our 
safe return the next season. 

The Islanders, more than any one else, 
regretted our departure, as what few of the 
traders remained would go in a few days and 
leave them to the monotony of their own sur- 
roundings, even the Indians having mostly 
departed for their hunting grounds. 

Some of our boats were crowded with the 
families of the traders, the oldest of whom was 
28 



Mr. Bieson, a large, portly, gray-headed man, 
who was then about sixty years of age, and for 
more than forty years had been an Indian^ 
trader on the Ohio, Mississippi^ and Illinois 
Riversy His wife was a pure-blooded Potta- f 
watomie Indian, enormous in size — so fleshy I 
she could scarcely walk. Their two daughters 
were married, and lived at Cahokie, a small 
French town opposite St. Louis. Mr. Bieson 
had a house and some property at Opa (now 
Peoria), but had been, with all the inhabitants 
of that place, driven off by the United States / 
troops, under command of General Howard,v 
in the year 1 8 13, and a fort was there erected, 
which was called Fort Clark. The town of 
Opa and Fort Clark were situated at the foot 
of Lake Peoria, on the Illinois River, where 
now stands the flourishing city of Peoria. 

The inhabitants of Opa were suspected 
(wrongly, I think) by our government of being 
enemies, and of aiding and counseling the 
Indians in giving assistance to Great Britain, 
/and this was the cause of General Howard's 
action in compelling them to vacate. Undoubt- 
edly some of them favored the British, and 
was paid 'spies, but a large majority opposed 
the Indians in siding with the British, and 
counseled them to act neutrally and attend to 
their hunting. 

Among the others, who had ^I'Ca them their 
families, were Messrs. Beebeau, pf Opa, and 
Lefrombois, Bleau,'^and La Clare, all of whom 
29 



€f)e ^tutoBxograpIjp of 



had Indian wives; and, in fact, there were but 
three or four single men in the party. Those 
having famihes messed by themselves, while 
the single men clubbed together. Mr. Des- 
champs was fond of good living, and our mess 
of five was well provided for, having such 
meats, fish, and wild fruits as were presented 
to us by the Indians when we met them on the 
shore of Lake Michigan. 

It was a custom of the Indians to present 
the head man of an expedition with the best 
they had, expecting to receive in return, salt, 
powder, or something else of value to them. 
The choice parts were retained by Mr. Des- 
champs for his own table, and the balance dis- 
tributed among the traders. 

The traders were all provided with small 
tents, but the only shelter given to the men 
was what was afforded by the boat tarpaulins, 
and, indeed, no other was needed, the camp 
fires being sufficient for warmth during the 
night. No covering but their single blanket 
was required, unless the weather was stormy. 

The boats progressed at the rate of about 
forty miles per day under oars, and when the 
wind was fair we hoisted our square sails, by 
the aid of which we were enabled to make 
seventy or seventy-five miles per day. If the 
wind proved too heavy, or blew strong ahead, 
we sought an entrance into the first creek or 
river we came to, and there awaited a favorable 
time to proceed. If caught by a storm on the 

30 



coast, when a shelter could not be reached, we 
sought the shore, where our boats were unload- 
ed and hauled up on to the beach out of reach 
of the surf. This was a hard and fatiguing 
labor, and was accomplished by laying down 
poles on the sand from the edge of the water. 
The rpen then waded into the water on each 
side of the boat, and by lifting and pushing as 
each large wave rolled against it, finally suc- 
ceeded in landing it high and dry on the shore. 
The goods were then piled up, resting on poles, 
and covered over with the tarpaulins, which 
were raised to the leeward by poles, so as to 
form a good shelter for the men and protect 
them from wind and rain. Sometimes we were 
compelled to remain thus in camp for four or 
five days at a time, waiting for the storm to 
subside, and during this time many games were 
indulged in, such as racing, wrestling, and card 
playing, and all were jolly and contented; 
sometimes varying the monotony by hunting 
or fishing. ^ 

Our journey around Lake Michigan was 
rather a long one, having occupied about 
twenty days. Nothing of interest transpired 
until we reached Marquette River, about where 
the town of Ludington now stands. This was 
the spot where Father Marquette died, about 
one hundred and forty years before, and we 
saw the remains of a red-cedar cross, erected 
by his men at the time of his death to mark 
his grave; and though his remains had been 

31 



€l)e auto6io5rapl)|i of 



^ — 

removed to the Mission, at Point St. Ignace, 
the cross was held sacred by the voyageurs, 
who, in passing, paid reverence to it by kneel- 
ing and making the sign of the cross. It was 
about three feet above the ground, and in a 
falling condition. We re-set it, leaving it out 
of the ground about two feet, and as I never 
saw it after, I doubt not that it was covered 
by the drifting sands of the following winter, 
and that no white man ever saw it afterwards. 

We proceeded on our voyage, and on the 
evening of September 50, 18 18, reached the 
mouth of the Calumet 'River, then known as 
the "Little Calumet," where we met a party 
of Indians returning to their villages from a 
visit to Chicago. They were very drunk, and 
before midnight commenced a fight in which 
several of their number were killed. Owing 
to this disturbance we removed our camp to 
the opposite side of the river and spent the 
remainder of the night in dressing ourselves 
and preparing for our advent into Chicago. 

We started at dawn. The morning was 
calm and bright, and we, in our holiday attire, 
with flags flying, completed the last twelve 
miles of our lake voyage. Arriving at Douglas 
Grove, where the prairie could be seen, through 
the oak woods, I landed, and climbing a tree, 
gazed in admiration on the first prairie I had 
ever seen. The waving grass, intermingling 
with a rich profusion of wild flowers, was the 
most beautiful sight I had ever gazed upon. 
32 



4Burtion ^aftott^tall JpuBBatti 

In the distance the grove of Blue Island 
loomed up, beyond it the timber on the Des- 
plaines River, while to give animation to the 
scene, a herd of wild deer appeared, and a pair 
of red foxes emerged from the grass within 
gunshot of me. 

Looking north, I saw^the whitewashed build- 
ings of Fort Dearborn sparkling in the sun- 
shine, our boats with flags flying, and oars 
keeping time to the cheering boat song. I 
was spell-bound and amazed at the beautiful 
scene before me. I took the "trail leading to 
the fort, and, on my arrival, found our party 
camped on the north side of the river, near 
what is now State street. A soldier ferried me 
across the river in a canoe, and thus I made 
my first entry into Chicago, October i, 1818. 

We were met upon landing by Mr. Kinzie, 
and as soon as our tents were pitched, were 
called upon by the officers of the fort, to all of 
whom I was introduced by Mr. Deschamps as 
his boy. I presented my letter of introduction 
to Mr. Kinzie, and with it a package sent by 
his son. In the afternoon I called at Mr. 
Kinzie 's house, and had the pleasure of meet- 
ing his family — consisting of Mrs. Kinzie; their 
eldest daughter, Mrs. Helm; their youngest 
daughter, Maria^ now the wife of Major-General 
David Hunter,"^ of the U. S. Army, and their 
youngest son, Robert, late paymaster of the 
U. S. Army, all of whom extended to me a 
cordial welcome. As I had so recently seen 

33 



€f)e ^utofiiograpljp of 



John, and had been so intimate with him, I 
had much of interest to tell them. 

I was invited to breakfast with them the 
next morning, and gladly accepted. As I sat 
down to the neat and well-ordered table for 
the first time since I left my father's house, 
memories of home and those dear to me forced 
themselves upon me, and I could not suppress 
my tears. But for the kindness of Mrs. Kinzie 
I should have beaten a hasty retreat. She saw 
my predicament and said, "I know just how 
you feel, and know more about you than you 
think; I am going to be a mother to you if you 
will let me. Just come with me a moment." 
She led me into an adjoining room and left me 
to bathe my eyes in cold water. When I came 
to the table I noticed that they had suspended 
eating, awaiting my return. I said to Mrs. 
Kinzie, **You reminded me so much of my 
mother, I could not help crying; my last meal 
with her was when I left Montreal, and since 
then I have never sat at a table with ladies, 
and this seems hke home to me." Mr. Kin- 
zie 's house was a long log cabin, with a rude 
piazza, and fronted the river directly opposite 
Fort Dearborn. 



FORT DEARBORN. 

Fort Dearborn was first established in 1804, 
on the south bank of Chicago River near where 
it then discharged into lake Michigan. 
34 



oBurtion ^alton^tall i^uBBarti 

It was evacuated August 15, 18 12, by Capt. 
N. Heald, 1st U. S. Infantry, who was then in 
command, and it was on the same day destroyed 
by the Indians. 

It was rebuilt on the old site in June, 18 16, 
by Capt. Hezekiah Bradley, 3d U. S. Infan- 
try, and occupied by troops until October, 1823, 
when it was again vacated and left in charge 
of Alexander Wolcott, Indian Agent. 

Re-occupied, October 3, 1828. 

Troops again withdrawn. May 20, 1 83 1. 

Re-occupied, June 17, 1832. 

Again vacated, July 11, 1832. 

Re-occupied, October i, 1832. y/ 

And finally abandoned, December 29, 1 836. 

I have been unable to find from the records 
of the War Department by whom this post 
was originally established, but find it to have 
been commanded, after its re-establishment, by 
officers as follows: 

Capt. Hezekiah Bradley, 3d U. S. Infantry, 
from June, 18 16, to May, 18 17. 

Brev. Maj. D. Baker, 3d U. S. Infantry, 
to June, 1820. 

Capt. H. Bradley, 3d U. S. Infantry, to 
January, 182 1. 

Maj. Alexander Cummings, 3d U. S. In- 
fantry, to October, 1822. 

Lieut. -Col. McNeil, 3d U. S. Infantry, to 
October, 1823. 

Fort not garrisoned from October, 1823, to 
October 3, 1828. 

35 



€fte 3lutD6iograpf)p of 



Capt. John Fowle, 5th U. S. Infantry, from 
October 3, 1828, to December 21, 1830. 

Lieut. David Hunter, 5th U. S. Infantry, to 
May 20, 183 1, when the troops were withdrawn. 

Maj. Wilham Whistler, 2d U. S. Infantry, 
from June 17, 1832, to July 11, 1832, and 
from October i, 1832, to June 19, 1833. 

When I first saw Fort Dearborn it was a 
stockade of oak pickets fourteen feet long, 
inclosing a square of about six hundred feet. 

A block house stood at the southwest corner, 
and a bastion in the northwest corner, about a 
hundred feet from which was the river. 

In the first fort an underground passage was 
constructed from the bastion to the river's 
edge, but this was not kept open during the 
occupancy of the second, but was kept in con- 
dition to be speedily re-opened should occasion 
ever require it. 

The officers' quarters were outside of the 
pickets, fronting east on the parade, and was 
a two-story building of hewn logs. A piazza 
extended along the entire front on a line with 
the floor of the second story, and was reached 
by stairs on the outside. 

The first story was divided into kitchen, 
dining and store rooms, while the second story 
was in one large room. The roof was covered 
with split clapboards about four feet long. 

The soldiers' quarters were also of logs, and 
similar to the officers', except that both stories 
were finished off and divided into rooms. 
36 



<©urtion ^alton^tall i^uBBarti 

In the northeast corner was the sutler's 
store, also built of logs, while at the north 
and south sides were gates opening to the 
parade ground. 

On each side of the south gate were guard- 
houses, about ten feet square. 

The commissary storehouse was two stories 
in height, and stood east of the guardhouse 
and south of the soldiers' quarters. 

The magazine was constructed of brick, and 
was situated west of the guardhouse, and 
near the block house. The stockade and all 
the buildings were neatly whitewashed, and 
presented a neat and pleasing appearance. 

West, and a little south, of the fort was the 
military barn, adjoining which, on the east, 
was the fort garden, of about four acres, which 
extended so as to front the fort on the south, 
its eastern line of fence connecting with and 
forming a part of the field extending south 
about half a mile. 

Adjoining this fence on the east was the 
only road leading from the fort in either direc- 
tion. The south line of the garden fence 
extended to the edge of the river, and a fence 
from the west end of the barn extended north 
to the river, so that the fort was wholly in- 
closed by fence from river to river. The 
inclosure between the stockade and the outer 
fences was covered with grass and adorned 
with trees and shrubbery. 

The well was in the outer inclosure and near 
37 



€l)e ^utofiiogtapi^p of 



the south gate, while about two hundred feet 
from the north gate was the river, a stream of 
clear, pure water, fed from the lake. 

On the east side of the fort the river was 
from four to five hundred feet from the pick- 
ets, and a part of this distance was a low, sandy 
beach, where rude wash-houses had been 
constructed, in which the men and women 
of the garrison conducted their laundry oper- 
ations. 

Just east of the road, and adjoining the 
fence running east to the river, was the "Fac- 
tor House," a two-story, squared-log struc- 
ture, inclosed by a neat spljt-picket fence. 
This building was occupied fr/^m 1804 to about 
the year 18 10 by a Mr. Jouett, United States 
factor, and by the west side of the road, adjoin- 
ing the government garden, in a picket-fence 
inclosure, was the grave of his wife. At the 
second construction of. the fort he was suc- 
ceeded by John Dean. 

For a distance of a quarter of a mile from 
the ''Factor House" there was no fence, 
building, or other obstruction between the 
government-field fence and the river or lake. 
Another house of hewn logs stood twelve 
hundred or more feet from the road, and back 
of it flowed the Chicago River, which, as late 
as 1827, emptied into Lake Michigan at a 
point known as "The Pines," a clump of a 
hundred or more stunted pine trees on the 
sand-hills about a mile from the fort. On the 
38 



oButtion J^alton^tall i^ufifiarti 

edge of the river, directly east of this house, 
and distant about fqidr hundred feet, stood a 
storehouse of roun^ogs, owned by the Ameri- 
can Fur Compam^ and occupied by its agent, 
Mr. John Craft ,Mvho erected it. This house 
was surrounded by a rail fence, and, after the 
death of Mr. Craft, was occupied by Jean 
Baptiste Beaubien. 

Adjoining this storehouse on the south was 
the fort burying-ground. The east line of the 
government field extended to about this point, 
and thence west to the south branch of the 
river. These, with the addition of a log cabin 
near the present Bridgeport, called "Hard- 
scrabble," a cabin on the north side occupied 
by Antoine Ouilmette, and the house of Mr. 
Kinzie, comprised all the buildings within the 
present limits of Cook County. 

Between the river and the lake, and extend- 
ing south to "The Pines," was a narrow 
strip of sand formed by the northeast winds 
gradually forcing the mouth of the river south 
of its natural and original outlet at Fort 
Dearborn. 

In the spring of 1828, the Chicago River 
had a strong current caused by flood; and, 
taking advantage of this, the officer command- 
ing at the fort ordered some of his men to cut 
a passage through the spit of land at the com- 
mencement of the bend and parallel with the 
north side of the fort. It was the work of but 
an hour or two to dig a ditch down to the level 
39 



€f)e ^utofiiosrapfip of 



of the river, and the water being let in, the force 
of the current soon washed a straight channel 
through to the lake fifteen or more feet deep; 
but the ever-shifting sand soon again filled this 
channel, and the mouth of the river worked 
south to about where Madison street now is. 

To Captain Fowle, however, are we indebted 
for the first attempt to make a harbor of the 
Chicago River. 

The officers amused themselves with fishing 
and hunting; deer, red fox, and wild-fowl were 
abundant. Foxes burrowed in the sand-hills 
and were often dug out, brought to the fort, 
and let loose upon the sand-bar formed by the 
outlet of the river. They were then chased 
by hounds, men being stationed so as to 
prevent their escape from the bar. These fox 
hunts were very exciting, and were enjoyed 
by Indians and whites alike. None of the 
officers were married, and as the sutler's 
store furnished the only means of spending 
their money they were forced to be frugal and 
saving. They were a cojivivial, jolly set. 

Fort Wayne, Indiana, was the nearest post- 
office, and the mail was carried generally by 
soldiers on foot and was received once a month. 
The wild onion grew in great quantities along 
the banks of the river, and in the woods adjoin- 
ing, the leek abounded, and doubtless Chicago 
derived its name from the onion and not, as 
some suppose, from the (animal) skunk. The 
Indian name for this animal is chi-kack, for 
40 



the vegetable, chi-goug; both words were used 
to indicate strong odors. 

What is now known as the North Branch 
was then known as River Guarie, named after 
the first trader that followed La Salle. The 
field he cultivated was traceable on the prairie 
by the distinct marks of the cornhills. 

MUD LAKE.— ISLE LA CACHE.— STARVED 
ROCK. — FORT CLARK. — ENCOUNTER 
WITH AN INDIAN. — ST. LOUIS. 

After a few days at Chicago, spent in repair- 
ing our boats, we struck camp and proceeded 
up the lagoon, or what is now known as the 
South Branch, camping at a point near the 
present commencement of the Illinois and 
Michigan Canal, where we remained one day 
preparing to pass our boats through Mud Lake 
into the Aux Plaines River. 

Mud Lake drained partly into the Aux 
Plaines and partly through a narrow, crooked 
channel into the South Branch, and only in 
very wet seasons was there sufficient water to 
float an empty boat. The mud was very deep, 
and along the edge of the lake grew tall grass 
and wild rice, often reaching above a man's 
head, and so strong and dense it was almost 
impossible to walk through them. 

Our empty boats were pulled up the channel, 
and in many places, where there was no water 
and a hard clay bottom, they were placed on 
41 



€f)e auto6io0raiJl)p of 



short rollers, and in this way moved along until 
the lake was reached, where we found mud 
thick and deep, but only at rare intervals was 
there water. Forked tree branches were tied 
upon the ends of the boat poles, and these 
afforded a bearing on the tussocks of grass and 
roots, which enabled the men in the boat 
to push to some purpose. Four men only 
remained in a boat and pushed with these poles, 
while six or eight others waded in the mud 
alongside, and by united efforts constantly 
jerking it along, so that from early dawn to 
dark we succeeded only in passing a part of 
our boats through to the Aux Plaines outlet, 
where we found the first hard ground. While 
a part of our crew were thus employed, others 
busied themselves in transporting our goods 
on their backs to the river; it was a laborious 
day for all. 

Those who waded through the mud fre- 
quently sank to their waist, and at times were 
forced to cling to the side of the boat to prevent 
going over their heads; after reaching the end 
and camping for the night came the task of 
ridding themselves from the blood suckers. 

The lake was full of these abominable black 
plagues, and they stuck so tight to the skin 
that they broke in pieces if force was used to 
remove them; experience had taught the use 
of a decoction of tobacco to remove them, 
and this was resorted to with good success. 

Having rid ourselves of the blood suckers, 
42 



oBurtion ^alton^tall i^ufiBatti 

we were assailed by myriads of mosquitoes, 
that rendered sleep hopeless, though we sought 
the softest spots on the ground for our beds. 

Those who had waded the lake suffered 
great agony, their limbs becoming swollen and 
inflamed, and their sufferings were not ended 
for two or three days. 

It took us three consecutive days of such 
toil to pass all our boats through this miser- 
able lake; when we finally camped on the 
banks of the river, our goods had all crossed 
the portage and we were once more ready to 
proceed. 

Our boats being again loaded, we resumed 
our voyage down the Desplaines until we 
reached Isle La Cache, where low water com- 
pelled us to again unload our goods in order 
to pass our boats over the shoal that here pre- 
sented itself; and again we camped after a 
hard day's labor. 

Isle La Cache took its name from a circum- 
stance in the life of Mr^ara, a trader who, 
when on his way with loaded canoes from 
Montreal to St. Louis, with goods for the 
Indian trade on the Ohio River, camped at this 
point. A band of Indians demanded of him 
some of his goods as a tribute for the privilege 
of passing down the river; this was refused. 
The Indians then returned to their village, a 
short distance below, held a council and deter- 
mined to stop his canoes as he passed their 
village, and take by force what he had refused 

43 



€l)e 3lutD6ia0rapJ)p of 



to give. Some of them, however, opposed 
this robbery, and one of the band reported the 
action of the council to Mr. Sara. 

The night was dark and misty and Mr. Sara 
determined to pass if possible by strategy, but 
to fight rather than accede to their demands. 
Fearing he might be overcome by numbers 
and thus lose his goods, and in order to lighten 
his canoes, so that he could pass rapidly over 
the shoal places in the river, he ordered the 
most valuable portion of his goods removed to 
a grove, about a mile distant on the prairie, 
and there hid them in holes dug in the ground 
(caches), removing the surplus earth to a dis- 
tance, and carefully smoothing over the spot, 
so that no trace of the hiding place could be 
seen; he then armed his men with guns, toma- 
hawks, and knives, and at daybreak started on 
his way down the river. 

Stopping at the village, he stationed his men 
so as to guard the canoes, and then called on 
the Indians for a talk, which was granted; he 
told them that he should defend his goods; that 
the Great Father, the French King, had given 
him permission to go to the Ohio River, and 
showed them a parchment ornamented with- 
numerous ribbons and large red seals; he said to 
them, **here is my evidence, the King has made 
this writing, and it tells you that I must not be 
stopped or disturbed in passing through the 
nations of his red children; if any harm shall 
come to me he will revenge it by sending an 
44 



oBurtion J^alton^tall i^uBtiarti 

army to destroy them and take possession of 
their country.'* 

This speech and demonstration had the 
desired effect, and the Indians were glad to 
excuse themselves; they however said that they 
were poor and needed clothing and tobacco; that 
they had no powder and but few guns, and were 
preparing to send a delegation to St. Louis to 
see their Great Father's Captain to state their 
condition and make known their wants. 

Mr. Sara replied that he was authorized 
to give them a present from their Great Father, 
and that he should have done so but for their 
demand and threat, but as they had repented, 
he would now give it to them; whereupon he 
handed them a small bale, which he had pre- 
viously prepared for that purpose, and orna- 
mented with ribbons and sealing wax. The 
bale contained a few pieces of calico, powder 
and shot, tobacco and flints, and steels for 
striking fire, which delighted them exceedingly. 

He then said to them, '^ You see my canoes 
are light; I have but little in them, but when I 
camped last night you saw them heavily loaded. 
I had a dream; the Spirit told me you held a 
council, and determined to rob me when I 
passed your village this morning; that is why 
you see my men with guns, tomahawks, and 
knives, with which to defend themselves; we 
did not fear you, though there are many of you 
and we are but few, though you might have 
overpowered us; we are now friends, and I 
45 



€f)c auto6iograpI)p of 



want you to help us; go with my men, take 
your pack-horses and bring the goods I have 
left behind and help us down the river with our 
boats until we reach the deep water below the 
shoals, when I will give you another bale of 
goods in token of my friendship, and bid you 
farewell.'* To this they consented; the goods 
were removed from their hiding place and 
transported/on horses to the confluence of the 
Desplaines^ and Kankakee' Rivers and again 
loaded in the canoes; the Indians being both 
surprised and amused at his strategy. This is 
the story as related to me. 

Our progress from this point was very slow 
indeed, and most of the distance to the Illinois 
River our goods were carried on our backs, 
while our lightened boats were pulled over the 
shallow places, often being compelled to place 
poles under them, and on these drag them 
over the rocks and shoals. In this manner 
almost three week^ were occupied in reaching 
the mouth of Fox" River, and two days more 
brought us to the foot of Starved Rock. 
Parkman, in his Discovery of the Great West, 
thus describes this romantic and picturesque 
spot: 

"The cliff called 'Starved Rock,* now pointed out 
to travelers as the chief natural curiosity of the region, 
rises steep on three sides as a castle wall to the 
height of a hundred and twenty-five feet above the 
river. In front, it overhangs the water that washes 
its base; its western brow looks down on the tops of 
the forest trees below; and on the east lies a wide 

46 



gorge or ravine, choked with the mingled foliage 
of oaks, walnuts, and elms; while in its rocky depths 
a little brook creeps down to mingle with the river. 

From the rugged trunk of the stunted cedar that 
leans forward from the brink, you may drop a 
plummet into the river below, where the catfish and 
the turtles may plainly be seen gliding over the 
wrinkled sands of the clear shallow current. The 
cliff is accessible only from behind, where a man 
may climb up, not without difficulty, by a steep and 
narrow passage. The top is about an acre in extent.' ' 

After leaving Starved Rock we met with no 
further detentions from scarcity of water. We ^ 
passed on our way a number of Indian villages 
and stopped a few hours at each, not for the 
purpose of trading, but only to barter tobacco 
and powder for meat and Indian corn. We 
were treated kindly by all, and felt perfectly 
safe among them; they were all acquainted 
with our traders, and knew where the trading 
houses were to be located, from which they 
would obtain their hunting outfits. 

Opposite the mouth of Bureau River, and 
about a mile above the present site of the town 
of Hennepin^ our first trading house was 
located, and placed in charge of Mr. Beebeau, 
who for many years had been a trader in that 
region. I was assigned to this post and was 
to have charge of the accounts, as neither 
Beebeau nor any of the men could read or 
write. Beebeau kept his accounts with the 
Indians by a system of hieroglyphics. 

I was permitted by Mr. Deschamps to 
accompany him to St. Louis, whither he went 
47 



€l)e ^utofiiograpljp of 



with one boat to purchase supplies of tobacco 
and some other needed articles from the French 
people at Cahokia. Beebeau received his 
invoices of goods and detail of men, and we 
proceeded onward. 

Our next post was located three miles below 
Lake Peoria, and about sixty miles from 
Bureau, and was placed in charge of old Mr. 
Beason, a venerable man, who had long been a 
trader on this river, and was well and favorably- 
known by the Indians; this we called Opa post. 

As we rounded the point of the lake above 
Peoria. >ce discovered that old Fort Clark was 
on fire, 'and upon reaching it we found Indians 
to the number of about two hundred engaged in 
a war dance; they were hideously painted, and 
had scalps on their spears and in their sashes, 
which they had taken from Americans during 
the war with Great Britain from 1812 to 1815. 

A young brave having noticed me, inquired 
who I was, and Mr. Deschamps replied that I 
was his adopted son from Montreal. This an- 
swer he gave to allay the suspicion that had 
arisen that I was an American, a nation then 
much disliked by the Indians. 

The Indian doubted the truth of Mr. Des- 
champs' statement, insisted that I was an 
American, and endeavored to force a quarrel 
with me. Mr. Deschamps left me in the boat 
in charge of one of the men, and went among 
the Indians to converse with them. 

Using this man as an interpreter, the Indian 
48 



aButbon J^alton^tall i^u66arti 

resumed the conversation with me, and saying 
that I was an American, took from his sash, 
one after another, a number of scalps, and 
showing them to me, told me they were the 
scalps of my people. I was trembling with 
fear, which he observed, and drawing from his 
sash a long-haired scalp, he wet it and sprinkled 
the water in my face. In a moment my fear 
turned to rage, and seizing Mr. Deschamps' 
double-barreled gun, which lay in the bottom of 
the boat, I took deliberate aim at him and fired. 
The man who was left with me, seeing my in- 
tention, struck up the gun and saved the 
Indian's life, and probably my own and that of 
others of our party. Hearing the report of 
the gun and the consequent confusion, Mr. 
Deschamps and the men with him came run- 
ning back to the boats, and after a short con- 
sultation Mr. Deschamps ordered the boats to 
push out, and we started down the stream. 
This incident left such an impression on my 
mind that no doubt exists with me as to the 
time of the burning of Fort Clark. 

Having given Mr. Beason his outfit and left 
with him one of our boats, we pursued our 
journey, establishing posts every sixty miles, the 
last one being about fifty miles above the 
mouth of the river. 

From this point we departed with but one 

boat, with a picked crew of men, all in high 

glee and singing a Canadian boat song, in 

which Mr. Deschamps, as usual, led. We 

49 



€i)e auto6iograpl^p of 



made rapid progress, and when ^e again camped 
it was at the mouth of the Ilhnois River. On 
the following day, November sixth, at about 
two o'clock in the afternoon, we reached St. 
Louis. Our boat was soon surrounded by 
the friends of Mr. Deschamps, among whom 
were many priests, and all united in a hearty 
greeting. 

I knew my father and brother should be at 
this place, but where to find them I could not 
tell. My anxiety to see them was so great that 
I went into the nearest tavern, but found no 
trace of them there. As I was on the street 
I passed a gentleman who seemed to notice me; 
I turned and spoke to him, telling him I was a 
stranger in search of my father. He thought 
a moment, then said, " The name sounds famil- 
iar; I think I was introduced to him at Mr. 
Paddock's." I asked him if Mr. Paddock 
came from Vermont; he replied in the affirm- 
ative, and directed me to his house, which I 
soon found. The door was opened by a pretty 
young girl, who told me that he was at Mr. 
Enos', who was also a Vermonter and an old 
friend of our family. Here at last I found my 
father, who was conversing with Mr. Enos. 
He did not recognize me, so much had I changed 
since our parting, though only six months had 
passed. I was then thin and pale from close 
confinement in the store, but with the outdoor 
life and exposure, I had gained in weight and 
strength, and become as brown as an Indian. 
50 



aBurtion J^afton^tafl i^ubBarti 

On inquiring for my brother, I learned that 
he was employed in a drug store near by, 
where we found him pounding something in a 
mortar. Though I did not speak he knew me 
at once, and exclaimed, "O, brother! brother!" 
bursting into tears. The meeting was a joyous 
one, and I think the day the happiest of my 
life. 

At this tijrie St. Louis had a population of 
about eight" hundred, composed of French, 
English, Spanish, and American. 

Cahokia, a French town on the opposite 
side of the river, was then the largest, it having 
a population of about one thousand. There 
Mr. Deschamps made most of his purchases 
of flour and tobacco, which, with some mer- 
chandise bought in St. Louis, completed our 
return cargo. 

This French village was then a jolly place. 
Mr. Deschamps was a favorite with all, and 
was treated as the distinguished guest of every 
family. There was dancing at some of the 
houses every night; and even the priests claimed 
his assistance in their singing. 

I was permitted to remain in St. Louis with 
my father and brother, being required to 
report daily to Mr. Deschamps, and perform 
such duties as were assigned to me. My home 
was at Mr. Paddock's, with my brother, and 
here I was treated very kindly by all the family. 
My father was preparing to go to Arkansas, 
with the intention of locating permanently 

51 



Cfte ^uto6iograpI)p of 



there ; and when, at the end of two weeks, we 
parted, it was our farewell, as I never saw him 
again. 

SHAUB-E-NEE. — WA-BA AND CHE-MO- 
CO-MON-ESS. — TIPPECANOE BATTLE 
GROUND.— THE FEAST OF THE DEAD. 

About the twentieth of November we started 
on our return voyage, ascending the Mississippi 
and Ilhnois Rivers and distributing to our 
various trading posts portions of our cargo. I 
reached my station between the tenth and fif- 
teenth of December, where Mr. Deschamps, 
after giving me particular instructions as to my 
duties, and opening the books, left me with his 
blessing. The accounts had heretofore been 
kept in hieroglyphics by Beebeau, my ignorant 
master, who proved to be sickly, cross, and 
petulant. He spent the greater part of his 
time in bed, attended by a fat, dirty Indian 
woman, a doctress, who made and adminis- 
tered various decoctions to him. One of our 
men, Antoine, had an Indian wife and two 
children, the oldest a boy about my own age, 
but who was not regularly in the employ of the 
Company. 

My trouble at Fort Clark, and the circum- 
stances atten(Jing it, had become known to the 
Indians in tl^e'^ vicinity of our post. Their chief 
was Wa-ba, and soon after my arrival he, 
accompanied by Shaub-e-nee, called on me, 
52 



oBurtioii ^alton^tall i^ufiBatti 

saying they wished to see the little American 
brave. Shaub-e-nee was then about twenty- 
five years of age, and was, I thought, the finest 
looking man I had ever seen. He was fully 
six feet in height, finely proportioned, and with 
a countenance expressive of intelligence, firm- 
ness and kindness. He was one of Tecumseh's 
aids at the battle of the Thames, being at hi^, 
side when Tecumseh was shot. Becoming dis- 
gusted with the conduct of General Proctor, lie, 
with Billy Caldwell (the Sauganash), withdrew 
their support from the British and espoused 
the cause of the, Americans. Shaub-e-nee, in 
after years, during the Black Hawk War, was 
indefatigable in notifying the white settlers in 
DuPage,* Grundy and La Salle Counties of 
threatened danger, often riding both night and 
day, in great peril, and by his timely warning 
and counsel saving the lives of many settlers. 
He lived to the age of eighty-four years, and 
died July 17, 1859, ^t his home in MorriS, 
Grundy County, respected and beloved by all 
who knew him. 

Chief Wa-ba had shortly before this lost a 
son, of about my own age, and so, according 
to the Indian custom, he adopted me in his 
stead, naming me Che-mo-co-mon-ess (the little 
American) . I enjoyed the friendship of Wa-ba 
for a number of years and until his death, 
and I here desire to deny the sta^ment made 
by a historian of our State, that Wa-ba plun- 
dered certain mounds and removed from them 

53 



€{^e ^utoIiiDgrajrtjp of 



their valuable contents. Such a deed would 
have been wholly at variance with his charac- 
ter, which was that of an honest man, and 
certainly could not have occurred without my 
having heard of it, which I never did until I 
saw it in the book referred to. 

Wa-ba had another son who, with Antoine's 
son and myself, frequently hunted together, 
and we all became quite expert. 

Our cabin was built of logs, those forming 
the sides being laid one on the other and held 
in place by stakes driven into the ground, y 
and these fastened together at ^he top by withes 
of bark. The logs forming the ends were of 
smaller size, driven into the ground perpendic- 
ularly, the centre ones being longer and forked 
at the. top, and upon these rested the ridge 
pole. Straight-gi'ained logs were then selected 
and split as thin as possible, making sections 
of three or four inches in thickness, which 
were laid with one end resting upon the ridge 
pole, the other on the logs which formed the 
sides of the cabin; through these was driven a 
wooden pin, which rested against the top log 
on the inside of the cabin, and projected eight- 
een inches or two feet above the roof. The 
cracks and openings of roof and sides were 
then daubed with a cement made of clay mixed 
with ashes, and then the whole roof was covered 
with long grass, which was held in place by 
other logs laid on top. 

The chimney and fire-place were made in 
54 



oBurtion J>aftoni8ftaIl i^uBBarti 

the following manner: At the centre of one 
side of the room four straight poles were 
driven firmly in the ground, the front ones 
being about eight feet apart and the back ones 
about five feet; then small saplings, cut to 
proper lengths, were fastened by withes'at each 
end to the upright poles, and about eighteen 
inches apart. Then came the mortar, made 
from clay and ashes, into which was kneaded 
long grass so as to form strips ten or twelve 
inches in width and about four feet long; the 
centres of these strips were then placed or 
hung on the cross poles and pressed together 
so as to cover the wood, and in this way the 
chimney was carried up to the top of the up- 
right poles and then three or four feet above 
the roof, or even with the ridge pole. A 
second coat of mortar, about two inches thick, 
was then thrown on, pressed to the rough first 
coat and smoothed with the hands; the hearth 
was then made of dry, stiff clay, pounded 
down hard, and the structure was finished. 

The floor of the cabin was made of pun- 
cheons, the surface of which was dressed with 
a common axe or tomahawk, so as to remove 
the sphnters, the edges being made to fit 
together as close as possible. The door was 
made of the same material, puncheons, hung 
on wooden hinges, and fastened by a wooden 
latch with back string attached, so it could be 
raised from the outside, and when the string 
was pulled in, the door was locked. 

55 



Cfte 9lutoBiD0rapl)p of 



To make the window, one of the logs in the 
end of the cabin was cut so as to leave an 
opening of about eighteen inches in width by 
twenty or thirty inches in length, into which 
was set a rough sash, and over this was pasted 
or glued paper, which had been thoroughly oiled 
with bear or coon grease. This completed 
the house, which was warm and comfortable. 

Our bunks were placed in a row, one above 
the other, and were made of puncheons split 
as thin as possible. The bottom rested on 
parallel saplings cut to a proper length, one 
end of which was inserted in a two-inch auger 
hole in the logs of the cabin, and the other 
supported by a puncheon set upright. The 
bedding consisted of long, coarse grass, laid 
lengthwise of the bunk, on top of which was 
placed a skin of some kind (generally buckskin) 
or an Indian mat. At the head the grass was 
raised so as to make a pillow, and to each man 
was allowed one blanket for cover. 

The table, with round sapling legs, and pun- 
cheon top, and a three-legged stool, con- 
structed in the same manner, completed the 
furniture of the mansion. 

The only tools allowed to each outfit was a 
common axe, a two-inch auger, an ordinary 
scalping knife, a crooked knife (this had a 
blade six inches long and rounded at the end), 
and tomahawk, and with these implements 
everything was constructed, and some of the 
men did excellent work with these simple tools. 
56 



Our kitchen utensils were few and primitive, 
consisting of a frying-pan, a couple of tin 
pots, one very large Indian bowl made of 
wood, and several smaller ones. Table knives 
and forks we had none, and our spoons 
were of wood, ranging in capacity from a gill 
to a pint. 

Wood was, of course, plenty, and our large 
fire-place was kept well filled. 

A camp-kettle chain was suspended from a 
hook made from the limb of a tree and fast- 
ened to the roof, from which also hung cords, 
which were used for roasting game. Our 
meat being thus suspended before a bright fire, 
it was the duty of one man, with a long stick, 
to keep it whirling rapidly until sufficiently 
cooked, when it was placed in the large wooden 
bowl on the table, and each one helped him- 
self by cutting off with his knife and fingers as 
much as he desired. Usually we had nothing 
else on the table except honey. The wild tur- 
key was used as a substitute for bread, and 
when eaten with fat venison, coon, or bear, is 
more dehcious than any roast can be. 

One of our luxuries, which was reserved for 
special occasions, was corn soup, and this was 
always acceptable. 

Those traders who^ere so fortunate as to 
possess an iron bake-pan or skillet were par- 
ticularly favored, and the more so if they were 
also possessed of flour, for then many delica- 
cies were possible, and many kinds of chopped 
57 



€l)e 3luto6io0tapl)p of 



meats and baked **avingnols" afforded a dish 
not to be refused by kings. 

Let me give one or two recipes: To one 
pound of lean venison, add one pound of the 
breast of turkey, three-fourths of a pound of 
the fat of bear or raccoon; salt and pepper to 
taste, and season with the wild onion or leek; 
chop up or pound fine (the meat), and mix all 
well together; then make a thin crust, with 
which cover the sides and bottom of the bake- 
pan; then put in the meat and cover it with a 
thicker crust, which must be attached firmly 
to the side crust; now put on the cover of your 
bake-pan and set it on the hot coals, heaping 
them on the top, and bake for one hour, and you 
will have a delicious dish. 

Another: Make a thin batter and drop 
small balls of the minced meat into it and fry 
in bear or coon fat, taking care that the meat 
is well covered with the batter. This we called 
**les avingnol." 

From the ponds we gathered the seeds of 
the lotus^ which we used for coffee, our ever- 
filled honey-trough furnishing the sweetening. 
Our supply of salt and pepper was rather 
limited, and these were used only on special 
occasions. 

Thus passed the winter. When at home, 
chatting, joking and playing tricks on each 
other; making oars and paddles to replace the 
worn out and broken ones, and getting our- 
selves ready for the spring's departure. 
58 



<©uttion J>alt(m^tafl J^u6Batti 

As I had little to do in the house besides 
keeping the books and being present when 
sales were made for furs or on credit, and 
being disgusted with the disagreeable and filthy 
habits of my master, Beebeau, I fairly lived in 
the open air with my two comrades. Our 
time was spent in the manly exercise of hunt- 
ing and trapping, on foot or in canoes, and as 
they spoke in the Indian language only, they 
were of great assistance to me in learning it, 
which I accomplished before spring. I also 
became proficient in hunting, and could discern 
animal tracks on the ground and tell what kind 
they were, and whether they were walking slow 
or fast or running. I could detect the marks 
on the trunks of trees made by such animals 
as the raccoon or panther, if they had made it 
a retreat within a month or so. My com- 
panions had many laughs and jokes at my 
expense for my awkwardness in hunting and 
ignorance in tracking animals, but I faithfully 
persevered in my education. 

My clothing during this winter and for the 
subsequent years of my life as a trader, con- 
sisted of a buckskin hunting shirt or a blue 
capote' belted in at the waist with a sash or 
buckskin belt, in which was carried a knife and 
sheath, a tomahawk, and a tobacco pouch made 
of the skin of some animal, usually otter or 
mink. In the pouch was carried a flint and 
steel and piece of punk. 

Underneath my outside garment I wore a 
59 



€l)e 9luto6iograpf)p of 



calico shirt, breech-cloth, and buckskin leggins. 
On my feet neips* and moccasins, and some- 
times in winter, a red knit cap on my head. 
I allowed my hair to grow long and usually 
went bareheaded. When traveling in winter 
I carried, and sometimes wore, a blanket. 

During this winter I made t-v^g trips into the 
interior; One to the mouth of Rock River, 
where I first saw Black Hawk, and for the 
first time slept in an Indian wigwam. The 
other to the vVabash River. For the privilege 
of going, I was required to carry a pack on 
my back of fifty pounds weight, the men with 
me carrying eighty pounds. These packs 
contained goods to exchange for furs and pel- 
tries. During the first few days this was very- 
severe, and I often wished I had not under- 
taken it, but by the time I returned, I was able 
to carry my pack with comparative ease and 
keep up with the others in walking. 

jOn my trip to the Wabash River we found 
ji' band of Kick-a-poo Indians encamped on 
vPine Creek, a branch of the Wabash, and one 
evening quite a number of the Indians gathered 
into the trader's wigwam and were discussing 
the subject of Harrison's fight at Tippecanoe. 
A number of these Indians had participated in 
the battle, and twelve of them had been 
wounded. As I could not understand their 
language sufficiently well to converse, I em- 

* Square pieces of blanket which were folded over 
the feet, and were worn in place of stockings. 
60 



<©urtion ^alton^tall i^ufifiarti 



ployed my man as interpreter, and told them 
that from what I had read in books, they had 
deceived General Harrison, pretending to be 
friendly and getting him to camp in an exposed 
situation where an attacking enemy would 
have great advantages. They laughed heartily, 
saying that the contrary was the truth. He 
had selected the strongest natural position in 
all that country; that at any other place they 
could have conquered him and but few could 
have escaped. In consequence of his strong 
position, they had a long consultation in plan- 
ning the attack. I was so much interested in 
what I heard that I asked to go to the battle 
ground on the following morning, which they 
agreed to. Accordingly, the next morning I 
was furnished with a pony, and accompanied 
by two or three of them, started for the battle 
ground, and on arriving there found that their 
report was correct, and was much surprised at 
seeing such a location. 

The ground was admirably adapted to 
defense, being on an elevated plateau. On 
the westerly side ran Burnett Creek, the bank 
of which, on the side of Harrison's encamp- 
ment, was very steep, while on the opposite 
side the descent was gradual. On the easterly 
side was a prairie swamp skirting the plateau. 
Northerly and easterly was high ground and 
timber land, and it was here and along the 
creek that Harrison's soldiers made the attack. 
From Harrison's Report, pp. 289-290, it 
61 



€1)0 autoBiograpI)p of 



appears that General Harrison did not quite 
like the ground, but I am satisfied that no 
better could have been found in that vicinity, 
and in tl^t opinion I am sustained by General 
Tipton, ^who participated in the battle, and 
with whom I afterwards became acquainted 
while he was Indian agent at Logansport, 
Ind. 

At a subsequent date I again visited the 
locality in company with General Tipton, and 
he pointed out to me the positions held by 
the contending forces, and his account of the 
battle agreed with that given me by my red 
friends. The general and myself seated our- 
selves under a tree, on the bank of the little 
creek where the Kick-a-poos made their attack, 
and he there detailed to me the incidents of 
the march and fight. With a small stick he 
mapped out on the ground the positions held 
by the troops and Indians, and, playfully dig- 
ging and throwing up pebbles, he said: "Near 
this spot a friend of mine had his jaw shot away; 
he suffered great agony, but soon died." Just 
as he said this he unearthed some teeth which 
had once belonged to a human being. He 
picked them up, firmly believing them to be 
those of his friend, and for years after they 
occupied a place in his cabinet of curiosities. 

Our trip proved a successful one, and 

having sold all our goods, we hired ponies to 

transport our furs and peltries and returned 

home, where I was warmly welcomed by my 

62 



young companions, who were glad to have me 
again join them in their hunts. A day sufficed 
to decipher Beebeau's hieroglyphics, extract 
from memorandas and memory, the items of 
accounts, and write up the books, and I dropped 
back into the regular routine of my life. I 
also made a visit Jtb our trading post situated 
three miles below Peoria, which was in charge 
of old Mr. Beason. Though this post was 
sixty miles distant we reached it in one day's 
travel by starting at daylight and walking until 
dark, and returned after a visit of two or three 
days. By constant practice I had by this time 
become a good walker and could cover forty 
to fifty miles per day with ease. 

Winter passed without any special incident, 
and early in March, 1 8 19, we received by a 
carrier orders from Mr. Deschamps to have 
everything in complete readiness to start for 
Mackinaw on the twentieth. We kept track 
of the days of the month by notches cut in a 
stick, which hung in the store, having no 
almanac or calendar, and indeed I was the 
only one of the party who could have read it 
if we had possessed one. 

Our fare had consisted during the winter of 
a variety of game, such as venison, raccoon, 
panther, bear, and turkey, varied as spring 
approached with swan, geese and crane, be- 
sides almost every variety of duck. Prairie 
chickens and quail were also abundant, but 
these we did not consider eatable. Our game 

63 



€1)0 ^ntoftiograjjlip of 



was cooked in French style, and to our mind, 
could not be excelled in any kitchen. 

We had received in the fall one pound of 
green tea and a bag of flour, about a hundred 
pounds, and while this lasted we luxuriated on 
Sundays in pancakes and honey. The woods 
abounded in wild honey, and we kept a large 
wooden bowl full at all times, of which we par- 
took whenever we desired. 

In the forenoon of the 20th of March, we 
heard in the distance the sound of the familiar 
boat-song and recognized the rich tones of Mr. 
Deschamps' voice, and we knew the * 'Brigade' ' 
was coming. We all ran to the landing and 
soon saw Mr. Deschamps' boat rounding the 
point about a mile below; his ensign floating 
in the breeze. We shouted with joy at their 
arrival and gave them a hearty welcome. 

The remainder of the day and far into the 
night was spent in exchanging friendly greet- 
ings and recounting the events that had tran- 
spired since our parting. Little sleep was 
had, and but httle wanted. Mr. Deschamps 
had flour and tobacco, and we feasted and 
smoked and talked and laughed, and a happier 
party cannot well be imagined. The next day 
we spent in loading our boats, and the day 
following the thirteen boats of the "Brigade" 
pushed ofl" from the shore, and, to the music 
of the Canadian boat-song, we started on our 
long return journey. 

The first night we halted at our old camp- 
64 



oButtion <^afton^taII I^ufiBarti 

ground at the foot of Starved Rock. From 
this point until we reached Cache Island, our 
progress was very slow, averaging but from 
six to ten miles per day. The river was high, 
the current swift, and the rapids strong, and 
as the boats were heavily laden and a cold 
storm prevailed, we were glad to camp early 
and afford the men a much-needed rest. 
Early the morning following we left Cache 
Island, and as the wind was strong from the 
southwest, we hoisted our square sails for the 
first time, and rapidly passed up the Desplaines 
River, through Mud Lake, to South Branch, 
regardless of the course of the channel, and 
soon reached Chicago. 

We camped on the north side of the river, 
a small distance above Fort Dearborn, where 
we remained six or eight days repairing our 
boats and putting them in condition for the 
more serious journey of coasting Lake Michi- 
gan. 

Our stay in Chicago was a pleasant one to 
me. The same officers were in command at 
the fort that were there when we left in the 
fall, and warmly greeted us on our return. 

Mr. Kinzie again took me to his own house, 
where I was treated as one of the family, and 
I formed a strong attachment for these good 
friends. Seeing Mrs. Kinzie again brought 
my mother vividly to my mind, and made me 
all the more anxious to hear from her and my 
father. Since parting from them I had not 

65 



€l|e atutoBiograplip of 



heard from either, and could not expect to 
until I reached Mackinaw. 

On a beautiful morning in April, about the 
20th or 25th, we left Chicago and camped at 
the Grand Calumet. We did not desire to 
reach the mouth of Grand River (Grand 
Haven) before the May full moon, for annually 
at that time the Indians assembled to fast and 
feast their dead, the ceremonies occupying 
eight or ten days. A noted burying ground was 
selected and the ground around the graves 
thoroughly cleaned, they being put in the best 
of order. Many of the graves were marked 
by small poles, to which were attached pieces 
of white cloth. These preparations having 
been completed, all except the young children 
blackened their faces with charcoal and fasted 
for two whole days, eating literally nothing 
during that time. Though many of them had 
no relatives buried there, all joined in the fast 
and ceremonies in memory of their dead who 
were buried elsewhere, and the sounds of 
mourning and lamentation were heard around 
the graves and in the wigwams. 

At the close of the two days' fast they 
washed their faces, put on their decorations, 
and commenced feasting and visiting from one 
wigwam to another. They now placed wooden 
dishes at the head of each grave, which were 
kept daily supplied with food, and were pro- 
tected from the dogs, wolves, and other animals, 
by sticks driven into the ground around and 
66 



oBurtion ^alton^tali i^ufifiatti 

inclosing them. The feasting lasted several 
days, and the ceremonies were concluded by 
their celebrated game of ball, which is intensely 
interesting, even the dogs becoming excited 
and adding to the commotion by mixing with 
the players and barking and racing around the 
grounds. 

We progressed leisurely to the mouth of 
the St. Joseph River, where we encamped for 
several days, and were joined by the traders 
from that river. We reached Grand River 
early in May, and sought a good camping place 
up the river, some distance from the Indian 
camps. The *' Feast of the Dead*' had com- 
menced, and many Indians had already arrived, 
and for five or six days we were witnesses to 
their strange yet solemn ceremonies. 

One evening, at the close of the feast, we 
were informed that an Indian, who the fall 
previous, in a drunken quarrel, had kill^ one 
of the sons of a chief of the Manistee band, 
would on the morrow deliver himself up to 
suffer the penalty of his crime according to the 
Indian custom. We gave but Httle credence 
to the rumor, though the Indians seemed much 
excited over it. On the following day, how- 
ever, the rumor proved true, and I witnessed the 
grandest and most thrilling incident of my life. 

The murderer was a Canadian Indian, and 

had no blood relatives among the Manistees, 

but had by invitation, returned with some of 

the tribe from Maiden, where they received 

67 



€f)e ^utoBiogtapljp of 



their annuities from the Enghsh Government, 
and falhng in love with a Manistee maiden, 
had married her and settled among them, 
agreeing to become one of their tribe. As was 
customary, all his earnings from hunting and 
trapping belonged to his father-in-law until 
the birth of his first child, after which he 
commanded his time and could use his gains 
for the benefit of his family. At the time of 
the killing of the chief's son he had several 
children and was very poor, possessing nothing 
but his meagre wearing apparel and a few traps. 
He was a fair hunter, but more proficient as a 
trapper. 

Knowing that his life would be taken 
unless he could ransom it with furs and articles 
of value, after consulting with his wife, he 
determined to depart at night in a canoe with 
his family and secretly make his way to the 
marshes at the headwaters of the Muskegon 
River, where he had before trapped success- 
fully, and there endeavor to catch beaver, mink, 
marten, and other fine furs, which were usually 
abundant, and return in the spring and satisfy 
the demands of the chief. As, according to the 
custom, if he failed to satisfy the chief and 
family of the murdered man, either by ransom 
or a sacrifice of his own life, they could demand 
of his wife's brothers what he had failed to give, 
he consulted with one of them and told him of 
his purpose, and designated a particular loca- 
tion on the Muskegon where he could be found 
68 



aBurUon ^alton^tall ipufifiarti 

if it became necessary for him to return and 
deliver himself up. Having completed his 
arrangements, he made his escape and arrived 
safely at the place of destination, and having 
but few traps and but a small supply of ammu- 
nition, he arranged dead-fall traps in a circuit 
around his camp, hoping with them and his 
few traps to have a successful winter, and by 
spring to secure enough to save his life. 

After the burial of his son, the chief took 
counsel with his sons as to what they should 
do to revenge the dead, and as they knew the 
murderer was too poor to pay their demands, 
they determined upon his death, and set about 
finding him. Being disappointed in this, they 
made a demand upon the brothers of his wife, 
who, knowing that they could not satisfy his 
claims, counselled together as to what course 
to pursue, all but one of them believing he had 
fled to Canada. 

The younger brother, knowing his where- 
abouts, sent word to the chief that he would 
go in search of the murderer, and if he failed 
to produce him would himself give his own 
life in his stead. This being acceptable, with- 
out divulging the secret of his brother-in-law's 
hiding place, he started to find him. It was a 
long and difficult journey, as he had no land- 
marks to go by and only knew that he should 
find his brother-in-law on the headwaters of 
the Muskegon, which he finally did. 

The winter had been one of unusually deep 
69 



€Ije 2luto6io0rapl)p of 



snow, and the spring one of great floods, 
which had inundated the country where he was. 
The bears had kept in their dens, and for some 
reason the marten, beavers, and mink had not 
been found, so that when their brother-in-law 
reached them he and his family were almost 
perishing from starvation, and his winter's 
hunt had proved unsuccessful. They accord- 
ingly descended together to the main river, 
where the brother left them for his return home, 
it being agreed between them that the murderer 
would himself report at the mouth of Grand 
River during the "Feast of the Dead," which 
promise he faithfully performed. 

Soon after sunrise the news spread through 
the camp that he was coming. The chief 
hastily selected a spot in a valley between the 
sand-hills, in which he placed himself and 
family in readiness to receive him, while we 
traders, together with the Indians, sought the 
surrounding sand-hills, that we might have a 
good opportunity to witness all that should 
occur. Presently we heard the monotonous 
thump of the Indian drum, and soon thereafter 
the mournful voice of the Indian, chanting his 
own death song, and then we beheld him, 
marching with his wife and children, slowly 
and in single file, to the place selected for his 
execution, still singing and beating the drum. 

When he reached a spot near where sat the 
chief, he placed the drum on the ground, and 
his wife and children seated themselves on 
70 



mats which had been prepared for them. He 
then addressed the chief, saying: *'I, in a 
drunken moment, stabbed your son, being 
provoked to it by his accusing me of being a 
coward and caUing me an old woman. I fled 
to the marshes at the head of the Muskegon, 
hoping that the Great Spirit would favor me 
in the hunt, so that I could pay you for your 
lost son. I was not successful. Here is the 
knife with which I killed your son; by it I 
wish to die. Save my wife and children. 
I am done." The chief received the knife, 
and, handing it to his oldest son, said, "Kill 
him." The son advanced, and, placing his 
left hand upon the shoulder of his victim, 
made two or three feints with the knife and 
then plunged it into his breast to the handle 
and immediately withdrew it. 

Not a murmur was heard from the Indian 
or his wife and children. Not a word was 
spoken by those assembled to witness. All 
nature was silent, broken only by the singing 
of the birds. Every eye was turned upon the 
victim, who stood motionless with his eyes 
firmly fixed upon his executioner, and calmly 
received the blow without the appearance of 
the slightest tremor. For a few moments he 
stood erect, the blood gushing from the wound 
at every pulsation; then his knees began to 
quake; his eyes and face assumed an expression 
of death, and he sank upon the sand. 

During all this time the wife and children 
71 



€l)e aintoBiograpfjp of 



sat perfectly motionless^ gazing upon the hus- 
band and father. Not a sigh or a murmur 
escaping their lips until life was extinct, when 
they threw themselves upon his dead body, 
lying in a pool of blood, in grief and lamen- 
tations, bringing tears to the eyes of the traders, 
and causing a murmur of sympathy to run 
through the multitude of Indians. 

Turning to Mr. Deschamps, down whose 
cheeks the tears were trickhng, I said: **Why 
did you not save that noble Indian. A few 
blankets and shirts, and a little cloth, would 
have done it." *'Oh, my boy,*' he repHed, 
*'we should have done it. It was wrong and 
thoughtless in us. What a scene we have 
witnessed." 

Still the widowed wife and her children were 
clinging to the dead body in useless tears and 
grief. The chief and his family sat motionless 
for fifteen or twenty minutes, evidently regret- 
ting what had been done. Then he arose, 
approached the body, and in a trembling voice 
said: *' Woman stop weeping. Your husband 
was a brave man, and like a brave, was not 
afraid to die as the rules of our nation demanded. 
We adopt you and your children in the place of 
my son; our lodges are open to you; hve with 
any of us; we will treat you like our own sons 
and daughters; you shall have our protection 
and love. " " Che-qui-ock ' ' (that is right) was 
heard from the assembled Indians, and the 
tragedy was ended. 

72 



oButtiDtt ^alton^tall ipuIiBarti 

That scene is indelibly stamped on my mind, 
never to be forgotten. 

After the conclusion of the feast, we left in 
company with a large fleet of birch-bark ca- 
noes, occupied by Indians and their families, 
returning from their winter hunting grounds to 
their villages on the shore of Lake Michigan. 
A fair wind at starting increased to a gale in 
the after part of the day, and caused a high 
sea. We reached the Manistee River, which 
had a strong current, in entering which, we 
experienced much trouble from the breakers, 
and some of the boats shipped considerable 
water, but we all landed in safety. The In- 
dians, however, were not so fortunate, some 
of their canoes being swamped, and several of 
the women and children drowned. No assist- 
ance could be rendered them, though a num- 
ber of the children, who were lashed to bundles 
of Indian mats, were saved; the Indians and 
squaws swimming and holding to the mats, 
and thus keeping them from turning over. 
Others were saved by the canoes that followed, 
and passed safely in. 

We reached Mackinaw without further inci- 
dent about the middle of May, being among 
the first to arrive from the Indian country. 
Other ** outfits" followed shortly after, the 
last to arrive being from the Lake of the 
Woods. 

I found letters from my mother awaiting 
me, one of which announced the death of my 
73 



€J)e ^utoBic0tapl)p of 



father, which occurred soon after he reached 
Arkansas. He was taken sick while on the 
circuit. Having been but a short time in the 
Territory, he had formed but few acquaintances, 
and those mostly lawyers. My little brother, 
Christopher, thus suddenly left, was kindly 
cared for by R. P. Spalding, Esq., an attorney 
of the Territory, whose father resided in Nor- 
wich, Conn., and in the following winter his 
kind protector took him to Middletown, Conn., 
where he found friends and relatives. 

My mother had left Montreal and returned 
to New England, and had with her, her young- 
est daughter, Hannah, while my other sisters 
had been placed at school, one in Windsor, 
Vt., and the others in New London, Conn.; 
thus were those most dear to me, and to each 
other, cast upon the world without home or 
protector. This news made me very sad, 
and I determined to return and care for my 
mother and family, and accordingly tendered 
my resignation, which the Company refused 
to accept. 

After a few days* sojourn I was detailed 
under Mr. Matthews to receive and help count 
the furs brought in by the different outfits, 
put them into packs, and get them in readi- 
ness for shipment to New York, whither they 
were to go in a vessel chartered at Buffalo for 
that purpose. This packing furs was very 
hard work, and about one hundred men were 
detailed to assist in it. Each skin must be 
74 



oBurtiDn ^alton^tall J^ufiBarti 

beaten to remove the dust and any moths that 
might be in it. The different quahties were 
then carefully selected, and each packed into a 
frame, which was put under a press made of 
strong upright planks, on each side of which 
were four-inch openings, and in these were 
placed oak scantling, which filled the space 
between the top of the pack and the head of the 
frame. Wedges were then introduced between 
the scantling and these driven in by wooden 
mauls, as heavy as one man could wield, until the 
furs would compress no further, when the pack 
was firmly tied at ends and centre with rawhide 
ropes. A stave was attached to each pack, 
under the ropes, upon which was marked the 
number. The number, quality and kind of 
skins were then correctly invoiced. Work 
commenced at five o'clock in the morning and 
lasted until sunset, with an intermission of one 
hour at noon. My duties did not, however, 
end with sunset. I had to lock up before I 
went to my supper, and after to write up the 
accounts of the day, which often took until 
midnight. This was the commencement for 
me of real hard work, and lasted five or six 
weeks. 

Robert Stewart had charge of the outside 
work, while Mr. Crooks was the general di- 
rector of the affairs of the Company. These 
two gentlemen were wholly unlike in character. 
Mr. Crooks was a mild man, rarely out of tem- 
per, and governed more by quiet reasoning and 

75 



€l)e 9lxtto6iograpt)p of 



mild command than by dictation. Mr. Stew- 
art was one of those stern Scotchmen, who 
gave his orders abruptly and expected them 
obeyed to the letter, yet a man of a deal of 
humor and fond of fun. He had a fund of 
anecdotes and was excellent company. Though 
he often gave unnecessary orders and required 
everything to be done neatly and promptly, he 
was kind and sympathetic. He was quick 
tempered and wholly fearless, and the clerks 
knew that his commands were to be obeyed 
to the letter, but that if their duties were 
properly performed they would receive full 
credit and be treated with kindness and con- 
sideration. 

At one time, when he had sent men to Bois 
Blanc Island to cut the year's supply of wood, 
he learned that some of them had returned, 
and suspected that they had been sent for 
whisky. He accordingly caused them to be 
watched until his suspicions were confirmed. 
When they were about to push off for their 
return he suddenly appeared, expressing great 
surprise to see them. *'What is the matter," 
said he; **have you met with an accident; are 
any of you sick, or what are you here for ? ' ' 
The bowman replied that they came over to 
see some friends and get tobacco, and pro- 
ceeded to push the boat off. Mr. Stewart 
rushed into the water and seized the boat by 
its bow; two of the men persisted in pushing 
it off, but he succeeded in pulling the boat 
76 



4Surti0ti ^alton^tall i^ufiftarti 

ashore, and ordered the two men up into the 
yard. Closing the gate, he told them they 
were to be punished, and they, being very 
angry, used insulting language, which threw 
him into a towering rage. Seizing a stick he 
knocked them both do^'n, nearly killing one of 
them. Dr. Beaumont, the surgeon of the fort, 
was sent for, who examined the man, and pro- 
nounced his skull fractured and the result 
doubtful. Mr. Stewart was in great distress 
and himself cared for the man through the 
night, and was much relieved in his mind when 
the doctor told him in the morning that he 
thought the man would live, though a slight 
increase in the force of the blow would cer- 
tainly have killed him. 

This Mr. Stewart was the same man de- 
scribed by Mr. Irving in his * 'Astoria," as 
having compelled the captain of the ship in 
which he was sailing to tack ship and return 
to an island for his uncle, who had gone ashore 
while the vessel was becalmed and had acci- 
dentally been left there. 

My good friend, John H. Kinzie, resided in 
Mr. Stewart's family, and though much loved 
and respected, was often the victim of his 
temper or humor. On one occasion, when he 
had finished making out a long invoice, which 
he had taken unusual care to write nicely and 
in commercial shape, and supposed he would 
be highly complimented on its production, 
delivered it to Mr. Stewart, who carefully 



€1)0 3lutoBiograpl)p of 



looked it over, sheet after sheet, and on the 
very last page discovered a blot and a figure 
erased and rewritten. Pointing to them with 
a scowl, he said, "Do you call this well done? 
Go and do it over"; and he tore it into frag- 
ments. Poor John was sorely mortified, but 
was consoled by Mrs. Stewart, who had been 
instructed to do so by her husband, and pro- 
ceeded to rewrite his invoice, satisfied either 
of his own imperfections, or of the disagree- 
able temper of his master. 

At another time, an old voyageur who per- 
formed the duties of a house-servant for Mr. 
Stewart, complained to him that John was 
impertinent to him, ordering him to do things 
instead of politely asking him to, and said that 
at times he was tempted to strike him. "You 
are right, old man," said Mr. Stewart. "The 
boy is foolish; he should always treat an old 
man with respect; give him a good thrashing 
the next time he insults you; if you do not I 
shall have to. Can you whip him in a fair 
fight?" "Yes, sir," was the reply. "Then 
do so; but be sure you strike him with nothing 
but your fist." When John came to dinner 
he told him to order the old man to shovel the 
snow from a little yard in front of Mrs. 
Stewart's window. ' ' Make him do it at once, 
and stand over him until it is done." The old 
man was busy sawing wood in a shed when 
John started to give him orders. As soon as 
John was out of the way, Mr. Stewart slipped 
78 



oButtion J^alton^tall i^ufiBarti 

into another room to a window to see the fun. 
John approached the old man, saying, "Old 
man, you have wood enough sawed; get the 
snow-shovel and clean away the snow from 
the little yard." The old man made no reply, 
but placed his thumb to his nose and made an 
expressive movement with his fingers. ''Did 
you hear me?" ''Yes." "Why don't you 
mind?" "None of your business; you wait 
till I get ready." "Ready or not, you have 
got to clean away the snow right off. ' ' ' 'Who 
will make me? " "I," said John, and, advanc- 
ing, rather unceremoniously put his hand on 
the old man's shoulder, who resented by a 
blow on the nose that started the blood. They 
fought for some time, to the great enjoyment 
of Mr. Stewart, and the lesson was not wholly 
lost either on John or the other clerks. 

One evening when a number of clerks were 
sitting on the stoop just after tea, Jean Bap- 
tiste Beaubien came along boasting of his fast 
running. Mr. Stewart had slipped up behind 
us unperceived and heard Beaubien's boasting, 
and said I can beat you in a race from the 
store to the cooper shop (about the distance 
of a block). "No, you can't," said Beau- 
bien. "I will bet you a boot I can," said 
Stewart. "Done; come on," said Beaubien. 
So they took their stations and started. Mr. 
Stewart stopped about half-way, with Beaubien 
about a rod ahead; and, coming to the plat- 
form, said, "I'll pay the boot; but what will 

79 



€]^e ^liitofiiograplip of 



you do with only one boot?" Beaubien in- 
sisted that he was to have a pair, but on refer- 
ring the matter to the parties, they decided 
the bet was for one only. *'Now," said Mr. 
Stewart, "we will flip up a dollar to see 
whether it shall be a pair or none. Here is a 
dollar. Now, sir; heads I win, tails you lose. 
Three flips?" "Yes." It was heads. "Oh, 
heads I win. ' ' Next time it turns tails. "Oh, 
tails you lose." "Yes, yes," says Beaubien. 
Throws again, and this time heads. "Heads 
I win, Mr. Beaubien." "How the d — 1; I 
lose the head, I lose the tail; by gar, you 
make me lose all the time"; and, amid a roar 
of laughter, Mr. Stewart made his exit. 

This Beaubien had some education, could 
read and write, and was very proud of his 
accomplishments. Coming into the office one 
morning, about daylight, he said to the book- 
keeper, "Mr. Bookkeeper, I write very fine, 
and I make pretty figures." "Is that so? 
Well, help me a little; put down on that paper, 
one; now put down two; there, that's all; 
now add them together." After some reflec- 
tion he announced the result as three. 
"Now," said the bookkeeper, "put down 
two; now one; add them together." After 
pondering over it for a time Beaubien looked 
up with a radiant countenance and exclaimed, 
"By gar he all make three," and went off 
profoundly impressed with his own learning and 
proficiency in mathematics. 
80 



FISHING IN MUSKEGON LAKE.— A MONTH 
OF SOLITUDE.— LOST IN A SNOW 
STORM.— DEATH OF DUFRAIN. 

I supposed I should be again detailed to the 
Illinois river "brigade'* with my old leader, 
Mr. Deschamps, and was much surprised and 
grieved, when the time arrived to select goods 
and make ready for our departure, to receive 
one evening a summons from Mr. Crooks to 
meet him at his private office, when I was 
informed that I was not to go to my old post, 
but, in company with a Frenchman named 
Jacques Dufrain^ take charge of an outfit on 
the Muskegon River. Dufrain could neither 
read nor write, but had a large experience among 
the Indians on the Peninsula of Michigan, and 
I was to be governed by his advice in trading. 

I was told that the invoices would be directed 
to me, and that I was to be the commander of 
the expedition, and Dufrain simply my adviser, 
and then I was not to allow his advice to 
govern me when it differed materially with my 
own views. Mr. Crooks also told me that 
though I was young and inexperienced, he was 
confident thai with Dufrain's honesty and 
acquaintance with the Indians, I would have no 
difficulty in conducting the venture; the outfit 
would be small, and we were to go in Mr. Des- 
champs' *' brigade" to the mouth of the Mus- 
kegon or not, as we chose. Our headquarters 
were to be some sixty miles up the river. 
8i 



€1)0 auto6iograpI)p of 



This was, indeed, a bitter disappointment to 
me, as I had counted very much on seeing 
Mr. Kinzie's family, for whom I had formed a 
great attachment, and had hoped for Mr. Des- 
champs' permission to spend two or three weeks 
with them and the officers of Fort Dearborn, 
and then^ alone and join my companions at 
Beaureau trading house. And besides, I had 
left some of my clothing at Mr. Kinzie's to be 
repaired and put in order by my return. But 
as there was no other alternative, I received 
my goods with a good grace, and about the 
middle of October, 1819, started with the Illi- 
nois "brigade" on my second trip to the Indian 
country. 

We camped the first night at Point Wagash- 
vic and there remained wind-bound for the 
space of a week, and soon thereafter reached 
the Little Traverse. Here Mr. Deschamps 
advised me to stop and purchase my canoe and 
some Indian corn. About ten miles distant, 
at the foot of the bay, was an Indian village, 
and thither I sent my associate to make the 
necessary purchases; and after an absence of 
two days he returned with a canoe loaded with 
Indians, and about eight bushels of corn and 
some beans for our winter's stores. It was a 
small supply, but all we could get, and having 
paid for it we got ready to leave on the follow- 
ing morning. 

When morning came we found the wind 
blowing strong from the northeast, afterwards 
82 



oBurtion ^altoiiiaftafl IN&6atti 



changing to northwest and west, and for ten 
days blowing a gale so that November had 
come before we had started. We left before 
the heavy sea had subsided, and with great 
labor (there being but three^.men to row the 
boat) reached Grand Traverse, where we were 
again detained five or six days by adverse 
winds; another start, more heavy sea, and Calp 
River was reached, where we were again wind- 
bound for several days. 

Thus, with a heavily laden canoe and adverse 
winds, often in great peril, sometimes shipping 
water and narrowly escaping wreck, suffering 
from cold, and worn with toil, we entered the 
Muskegon River about the tenth of December 
and found the lake frozen. The weather was 
very cold, and the coast Indians had all left for 
their hunting grounds in the interior. 

Dufrain said it would be impossible to reach 
our destination, and recommended the repair- 
ing of an old abandoned trading house at a 
point of the lake about one and one half miles 
distant and there make our winter quarters. 
This we decided to do, though it would be very 
inconvenient, being from thirty to fifty miles 
distant from the Indian hunting grounds, where 
we should be compelled to go to trade. By 
breaking ice ahead of our boat we reached the 
place, and went industriously to work to repair 
the house and make jt tenantable. 

We had not seen an Indian for fifteen or 
twenty days, and as it was necessary to reach 
83 



Cl^e autoBiD0tapf)p of 



them, and let them know where we had l(^ated, 
we decided to send an expedition in search of 
them at once. Accordingly we made up an 
assortment of goods into three packages of 
about sixty pounds each, which, with a blanket 
apiece, were to be carried by Jacques and the 
two voyageurs who constituted our force; and 
on a bright December morning they bade me 
good-bye and started on their journey. 

As Jacques was perfectly familiar with the 
country, I did not look forward to a long ab- 
sence, and was content to remain alone. My 
stock of provisions consisted of the corn and a 
small quantity of flour, which we had brought 
from Mackinaw, and as I had my gun to depend 
on I thought I should have no difficulty in pro- 
curing all the meat I desired. 

Dufrain had told me that I should find no 
game, but this I did not beheve. I confined 
my hunting trips to a mile or so of the house, 
never daring to go out of sight of it, and for a 
week found rabbits and squirrels in sufficient 
numbers to supply me with food. Then came 
a heavy fall of snow and for several days I could 
find nothing to shoot, and as the work of walk- 
ing in two feet of snow was very laborious and 
I expected Dufrain to return very soon, I con- 
cluded to remain indoors, keep up a good fire, 
and content myself with corn. I had, I think, 
three books, which helped me to while away 
the time. / 

We had found in the lake a drowned deer 
84 



4Butti0n ^alton^tall i^utiBatti 

which we had skinned, and this skin dried fur- 
nished me with a mat upon which to he in 
front of the fire. The fireplace was broad, 
some three or four feet, and very deep, and so 
took in large logs that made a warm, cheerful 
fire. The timber under the hill, around the 
house, had all been cut off by its former occu- 
pants, and procuring wood was a serious 
problem. Through the deep snow from the 
top of the hill I was obliged to carry it, and 
for days I labored all the morning in getting 
my day's supply of fuel. The snow being so 
deep I could not haul or roll it down the hill, I 
set about devising some way to overcome the 
difficulty, and the idea of using the deer skin in 
some way for a sled presented itself to my mind. 
As it was not long enough to take on the four- 
foot logs I cut them three feet only, and 
having soaked the skin to make it pliable, I 
laid a log on it, and tied up the sides of the 
skin around it with a grape vine, and found I 
had a pretty fair sled. My down-hill path soon 
became hard and smooth, and extended to the 
door of the house, and my load would fre- 
quently slide down to the bottom with me 
astride of it. 

In a Book of Travels in the Northwest, 
which I had read, the author described the 
manner in which some tribes of Indians caught 
large fish during the winter. A hole was cut 
in the ice, over which a small shelter was built 
sufficiently large for one person to sit in, and 
85 



€l)e 9luto6tograp{)p of 



J 



made as dark as possible. The occupant then 
stationed himself with a spear in his left hand 
and a small wooden fish attached to a string in 
his right; the imitation fish being jerked up 
and down in the water attracted the larger 
ones, and they were easily speared. 

I thought that what an Indian could do in 
that line, I could, and set about making my 
preparations. I whittled out a stick into the 
shape of a fish, shaping it as artistically as I 
could, and colored it by searing with a hot 
iron. In an excavation made for the purpose 
I poured melted lead to sink it, and after hav- 
ing placed in the head beads for eyes I had quite 
a natural looking fish, about four inches in 
length. Placing my spear head on a handle, 
I marched with them to the middle of Muske- 
gon Lake, cut a hole in the ice, and erected 
a shelter by sticking poles in the ice and 
stretching a blanket over them. Everything 
being in readiness, I crawled into the hut, and 
lying flat on the ice dropped my * * little pet ' ' — 
as I called my little fish — and anxiously awaited 
the result. I was soon gratified by the appear- 
ance of a large fish that made a dart at my 
decoy. I hurled my spear at him, and — missed. 
And thus every few minutes for more than 
two hours I repeated the operation with the 
same results, when, mortified and angry, I 
returned, cold and hungry, to my solitary home 
and made a dinner of corn. 

Brooding over my ill luck and awkward- 
86 



oBurtion J^alton^tall i^uBfiarti 

ness and almost discouraged, I concluded that 
** practice would make perfect," and that I 
would try again on the following day, which 
I did, and after an hour or so of unrewarded 
effort I succeeded in catching a large lake trout, 
with which I returned to my house and soon 
had boiling in my camp kettle ; and never before 
or since did fish taste so good. After that I 
had no trouble in taking all the fish I wanted. 

Every night a wolf came and devoured the 
remnants of the fish I had thrown out. I 
could see him through the cracks of my house, 
and could easily have shot him, but he was my 
only companion, and I laid awake at night 
awaiting his coming. 

Thus I lived for thirty long, dreary, 
winter days, solitary and alone, never once 
during that time seeing a human being, and 
devoured with anxiety as to the fate of Dufrain 
and his men, whom I feared had met with 
some serious mishap, if, indeed, they had not 
been murdered. My anxiety for the last two 
weeks had been most intense, and at times I 
was almost crazy. I could not leave my goods, 
and knew not what I should do. 

I looked upon the expedition as worse than 
a failure, and my first management of a trad- 
ing house as a disastrous one. I thought that, 
should I live to return to Mackinaw, I should 
be an object of ridicule among the traders, and 
have incurred the lasting displeasure of my 
employers, and this was to be the end of all 
87 



€&e 9lwto6iogtap]^p of 



my bright anticipations for the future. Oh, 
that I had been permitted to again accompany 
Mr. Deschamps and join my old companions 
at Beebeau's trading house. 

My joy can be better imagined than described 
when, one morning, I discovered a party of 
men at the head of the lake coming toward me. 
I supposed them to be Indians, but was soon 
rejoiced to recognize among them Dufrain and 
his two companions. Having disposed of all 
their goods, and been successful in their trad- 
ing, they had secured a large number of furs, 
and with the assistance of Indians, whom 
they had hired and equipped in snow-shoes, 
they had carried them on their backs. At the 
sight of the rich treasures they unloaded all my 
gloomy anticipations fled, and joy and satisfac- 
tion reigned in their stead. 

The expedition had been one of great suc- 
cess; the goods had all been disposed of, and in 
their place they brought the finest and richest 
of furs — marten, beaver, bear, lynx, fox, otter, 
and mink making up their collection. 

Dufrain had a long account to give of trials, 
disappointments, and perseverance. He was 
ten days in finding the first band of Indians, and 
these had already been visited by an opposition 
trader, who cleared the camp of all the valu- 
able furs and told the Indians that no trader 
would come to Muskegon. The Indians 
regretted his late arrival, as he was a great 
favorite with them. 

88 



^Burtion ^afton^taH i^ufifiatti 

Though in their progress thus far they had 
suffered greatly from want of provisions, and 
had progressed but slowly and with great 
fatigue owing to the depth of the snow, they 
determined to push on to other camps and 
dispose of their goods before the other trader 
should reach them. Having provided himself 
and party with provisions and snow-shoes, 
Dufrain despatched an Indian to me to tell me 
of his movements, and that he should be gone 
twenty days longer, and started on his way. 
We afterwards learned that after a half-day's 
travel the Indian injured his foot and was com- 
pelled to return to the camp, and thus I was 
left in ignorance of Dufrain 's movements. 

All was joy that night in our little household, 
the men as glad to return as I was to welcome 
them. I feasted them bountifully on corn soup 
and fish and listened to the recital of the inci- 
dents of their trip. 

Another trip was decided on to go to the 
camp of some Indians he had heard of, but 
not seen, and who were in need of clothing, 
and had an abundance of furs. As time was 
very precious, the following day was devoted 
to selecting and packing goods and making 
preparations for departure. I decided to go 
with this expedition, though Dufrain remon- 
strated, and told me I could not stand the 
hardships of the journey; that having never 
traveled on snow-shoes I would have the mal du 
raquettey or become sick, and thus detain 
89 



Cfte auto6xograpl)p of 



them; but to my mind anything could be easier 
endured than another month of such solitude 
as I had just passed through, and 77ial du 
raquette or sickness were nothing to be com- 
pared with what I had endured. 

On the following morning we departed, 
leaving one man in charge of the house. 
Though my pack was only half as heavy as the 
others, the day was one of untold misery to me, 
never having walked in snow-shoes before. 
The day was clear and cold, the country rough 
and hilly and covered with underbrush, and 
every few minutes I tripped and fell, and 
usually landed at full length and buried my 
face in the snow, from which I could not arise 
without assistance from the others. By noon 
I was completely exhausted, and my load was 
carried by one of the others; and though we 
had made an early start, when we camped at 
night we had traveled only about six miles. 

Then came the preparations for the night's 
rest. The snow was about two feet deep, 
and shelter we had none. A place was selected 
by the side of a large fallen tree, the snow was 
scraped from the ground, and a place cleared 
of about six feet by ten, dry and green wood 
cut and piled up to the windward of the log, 
and a fire struck with flint and steel. Hem- 
lock boughs were cut for bedding, and these 
covered with a blanket, to keep them down 
and in place; then the packs were placed at 
one end to protect our heads from the wind, 
go 



40urtion ^alton^tall i^u6Barti 

and our beds were complete. During our 
march we had killed two porcupines, and these 
were dressed and toasted on sticks, and with 
our pounded parched corn made a very delicious 
supper. And as we had eaten nothing since 
early morning good appetites gave additional 
zest to the repast. 

After supper, a smoke, and then to bed, all 
lying together on the hemlock beds, covered 
with the two remaining blankets, with our feet 
to the fire, which we replenished through the 
night. I slept but little, being kept awake by 
the aching of my legs, the muscles of which 
were badly swollen. 

Before day all were up, and breakfast was 
made from the remnants of the previous 
night's supper, and by the time it was light 
we were ready to resume our journey. I was 
so stiff and lame that I could scarcely walk, 
and Dufrain advised me to return, he offering 
to go part way with me, and there meet the 
other man, whom I should send from the 
house. I at first thought I would do so, but 
the recollection of the lonely month of anxiety 
I had passed there soon determined me to go 
on with the party, and all Dufrain 's arguments 
failed to change my purpose. Every step 
caused me suffering, but as I warmed up the 
pain by degrees left me. I had caught the 
knack of throwing out the heels of my 
snow-shoes by a slight turn of the foot, 
and my falls were less frequent, and when 

91 



€f)e ^utoBxograpfjp of 



we camped at night we estimated that we had 
made during the day about three leagues or 
nine miles. 

During the day we had cut from a hollow 
tree two rabbits, and these with corn furnished 
our supper. Our camp was made as on the 
previous night. In the morning we consumed 
the remainder of our stock of corn, as we ex- 
pected to reach an Indian camp by night, and 
made our usual early start. 

Snow soon commenced falling, and con- 
tinued hard all day, and as the weather had 
moderated the snow stuck to our shoes, making 
them heavy and the walking very tiresome; 
we failed to find the Indians, and camped for 
the night with nothing to eat. The muscles of 
my toes were very sore, and on removing my 
moccasins and neips, I found my feet much 
swollen., and at the tops where the strap 
that held my snow-shoes was fastened, they 
were red and bruised, sure signs of ";//^/ du 
raquette,^^ The morning found me in a sad 
condition, the swelhng much increased, and 
the tops of my feet so sore that I could not 
bear my snow-shoes without great pain; still, 
on we went, I hobbling along as best I could. 
The snow still fell, and about noon we reached 
the Indian camp; and were provided with dinner 
by a squaw, and did ample justice to the bear 
meat and corn soup which she provided. 

In the evening the Indians returned from 
hunting and trapping, bringing a good supply 
92 



oBurtion ^alton^taH i^uBfiarti 

of furs, and the following forenoon was em- 
ployed by them in selling their furs, and settling 
with Dufrain for the goods he had sold to 
them on a previous trip. We remained in 
this camp five days, and I was very kindly 
treated. The old squaw poulticed my feet 
with herbs, and for two days I practiced every 
hour or so on my snow-shoes, so that when we 
left these hospitable people I felt well and 
strong, and had no trouble in keeping up with 
the others, nor was I tired at night. We 
camped in the usual manner, having made 
fifteen miles that day. 

Just at dark of the next day, as we were pre- 
paring our camp, we heard the bark of a dog, 
and knew the Indians were near; taking up 
our march, we soon reached their camp, where 
we remained for two days. A grand feast 
was prepared by the Indians, partly in honor 
of our visit, at which all the meat and broth 
set before us must be eaten, and the bones 
saved and buried with appropriate ceremonies, 
as an offering to the Great Spirit, that he 
might favor them in the hunt. The offering 
was a fat bear, over which a great pow-wow 
was first had by all the inmates of the lodges, 
after which it was carefully skinned, cut into 
small pieces, and put into the kettle in the 
presence of all. 

During the cooking, speeches were made by 
some of the older Indians invoking the aid of 
the Great Spirit, and when cooked the meat 

93 



€i)e ^utobiograplip of 



was carefully removed from the kettles and 
distributed in wooden bowls to each individual 
present in such quantities as their age and 
capacity for eating would seem to warrant, and 
all received their just proportion. Then the oil 
was skimmed off, and it and the broth divided 
in a like manner; a harangue was delivered 
by the head of the lodge, asking the Good 
Spirit to favor them in the chase and keep them 
well and free from harm; and then the eating 
commenced. 

I thought they had given me a larger portion 
than my age and capacity demanded, but Du- 
frain told me that I must eat all the meat and 
drink all the oil and broth, and leave the bones 
in my bowl; that a failure to do so would be 
considered an insult to the Indians and an 
offense to the Great Spirit. *'But," I said, 
"they have given me more than the others, 
and it is impossible for me to swallow it all.'* 
Dufrain replied: "They have given you the 
best portion as a compliment; you must receive 
it, and eat and drink every bit and every drop, 
otherwise we shall have trouble." "Well, 
you must help me, then," I said. "No," he 
rephed; "I can't help you; each person must 
eat all that is given him, and will not be allowed 
to part with any portion of it; I am sorry for 
you, as well as for myself, and wish it had 
been a cub, instead of a fat bear, but I shall 
eat mine if it kills me." 

It was between eight and nine o'clock at 
94 



<Durtion .^alton^tall i^ufifiarti 

night, and the fire, which furnished the only- 
light in the lodge, was low, and my location 
was in the back part of the lodge, where my 
movements could not be easily detected. I 
wore a French capote or hood, which sug- 
gested itself to my mind as being my only 
chance for disposing of a portion of the con- 
tents of my bowl, and I determined to attempt 
it. I felt that extreme caution was necessary, 
and no little dexterity required to sHp the meat 
into the hood unobserved; but I took the first 
opportunity, and succeeded in safely depositing 
a piece without detection even by Dufrain, who 
sat next to me. I proceeded eating slowly, so 
that no notice might be taken of the diminished 
quantity in my bowl, and soon succeeded in 
depositing another piece, and then a third, and 
ended by eating the last piece. There still 
remained the oil and broth, and I feared that 
my now overburdened stomach could not stand 
this addition to its load. The grease had 
soaked through the cloth of my capote, and I 
could feel it trickhng down my back, and I 
told Dufrain, in Indian, that I must go out, 
and asked him not to let my bowl be tipped 
over while I was gone. The Indians laughed, 
and I hastily made my exit, threw the pieces of 
meat to the dogs, and then, thrusting my fin- 
gers down my throat, endeavored to produce 
an eruption which should provide room for 
what I still had to swallow; failing in this 
attempt, however, I returned to my place in 
95 



€fte 9lutoBiogra}jf)p of 



the lodge, and by persistent effort finally suc- 
ceeded in swallowing the remainder. 

The ceremony of gathering the bones was 
then gone through with by the head of the 
lodge picking them up very carefully and depos- 
iting them in a bowl, then another harangue, 
and we were left to chat and barter as suited 
us best. J 

From these Indians we learned of two camps 
situated in opposite directions, and from them 
engaged a guide to go with one of our men to 
one camp, and from there to another, we had 
before known of, and to return home, where 
we were to meet him. Dufrain, being well 
acquainted with the country, felt confident that 
he could go directly to the other camp in one 
day's travel, and I decided to go with him. 
When we lay down it was snowing hard, which 
continued through the night. We arose as 
usual before dawn of day, and partook of a 
nice dish of corn soup, which had been pre- 
pared for us by the good squaw in whose lodge 
we had slept, and as soon as possible started. 
The snow continued falling, and being soft 
stuck to our snow-shoes and made the traveling 
very hard and fatiguing, and by ten o'clock I 
discovered that my companion was in doubt 
as to our whereabouts, and at noon we halted 
near a large fallen tree to strike fire for a 
smoke. When I asked him if we should reach 
the camps that night, his reply was that we 
should have reached the river by that time, 
96 



which would have been more than half way. 
He said he did not know where we were, the 
woods looked strange, but perhaps that was 
because there was so much snow on the trees. 
It had then stopped snowing, though with no 
appearance of clearing off. 

Soon after we started the storm again com- 
menced harder than ever, and I clearly saw 
that we were not going in the right direction, 
and ventured to tell Dufrain so. He was very 
passionate, and replied sharply that if I knew 
the way better than he I had better take the 
lead; thus rebuked, I followed on in silence. 
About four o'clock we found two tracks of 
snow-shoes. **Ah," said Dufrain, '*you see 
we are right; these tracks are of to-day; there 
is new snow on them; had they been of yester- 
day they would have been covered over so we 
could not see them; they were made by hunters 
from the camps this morning, but we can't go 
further than the river to-night. We will take 
the back tracks and they will lead us to the 
camps." 

It so happened that during the earlier part 
of the day I had noticed a peculiar leaning 
tree, which was now in sight, and I told him 
we were lost, and would soon reach the log 
where we had stopped at noon. He could not 
believe that I was right, and on we went, but 
before dark he was convinced by our reaching 
the same log, and there we camped for the 
night. We both slept soundly, and arose 

97 



€f)c auto6i00rapl)p of 



refreshed. The snow still falling, we hesitated 
for some time, undecided whether to take our 
back track to the camp we had left, or to 
strike for the river in the direction we thought 
it to be. Knowing that if the snow continued, 
of which there was every prospect, our tracks 
would soon be obliterated, and Dufrain feeling 
confident that we could find the river and then 
know where we were, we decided to proceed. 
We traveled all day, and camped at night 
without having reached it. Again, another 
day's weary tramp with the same result, and 
Dufrain was willing to admit that he had no idea 
where we were. We still held our course, and 
again laid down to sleep, very tired and hungry. 
The following day Dufrain became very 
weak, and was much frightened; still snowy, 
clouded, and dark; snow fully three feet deep. 
When we started the next morning, the clouds 
were breaking away, and by nine o'clock, the 
sun burst forth for the first time since we left 
the Indian camp. We then saw we were 
traveling a westerly course, and changed to 
the north. Dufrain was very weak, and our 
progress was necessarily very slow. Near a 
creek we found a thorn-apple tree, and remov- 
ing the snow from the ground, found a few 
apples, which we devoured W^ith a relish, and 
soon after struck the Mus^gon River. Fol- 
lowing up the river, we discovered on the 
opposite bank the poles of an Indian lodge, 
bark canoes, and a scaffold upon which was 
98 



4Surtion ^afton^taH i^u66arli 

deposited matting for covering lodges. It was 
very cold, the river full of floating ice, and not 
fordable. Dufrain recognized the spot, and 
said that a half mile above were rapids, where 
the river could be forded. Having reached 
the rapids we crossed with great difficulty, the 
water in places being up to our waists, and 
the ice floating against us. When we reached 
the scaffold, our clothes were frozen stiff. 
We took down some of the mats, cleared the 
snow, and made a comfortable lodge, suffi- 
ciently large to shelter us. 

Dufrain carried the flint, steel, and tinder 
in a bag, and after we had gathered wood for 
a fire, he discovered that he had lost it. We 
were indeed in a serious predicament, covered 
with ice, and shivering with cold; we supposed 
that we should certainly freeze to death. 
Dufrain abandoned all hope, and began to cross 
himself and say his prayers. I opened the 
bales of goods, and took from them what 
blankets and cloth they contained, cut more 
hemlock boughs, and took down more matting, 
and then we lay down close to each other, and 
covered up with the blankets and cloth. Soon 
the ice on our clothing began to thaw from the 
warmth of our bodies, and we fell asleep, 
never waking until sunrise. 

We did not feel hungry, but were very weak, 
and neither felt inclined to move. We were 
dry and warm, and felt more like lying where 
we were and awaiting death than of making 

99 



€l)e ^utobiograpl^p of 



any further effort to save our lives. We knew 
the Indians could not be far away, and sup- 
posed we might soon find a snow-shoe path 
which would lead us to their lodges, but were 
not capable of making the effort to save our- 
selves. My own reflections of the responsi- 
bility resting upon me, and thoughts of my wid- 
owed mother, brother and sisters, finally nerved 
me to make an effort. I told Dufrain that we 
must get up and go to the camps, and that I 
would go and reconnoitre, find the path and 
return for him; to my great disappointment, 
however, I could find no snow-shoe tracks; 
but after a careful search I discovered some 
small saplings broken off just above the snow, 
and could, by the feeling as I stepped, dis- 
cover that there was a path under the newly 
fallen snow. I followed it for a short distance, 
when I saw a blaze on a tree, and knew that I 
was going in the right direction to find the 
camps. I returned for my companion, whom 
I found sleeping, and seeming not to have 
moved during my absence. With great diffi- 
culty I aroused him and put on his snow-shoes, 
and then, having placed both packs upon the 
scaffold, started on the march. I had much 
trouble in keeping the path, which I followed 
by the broken twigs and an occasional blaze 
on a tree, and our progress was very slow. 
About noon we struck a fresh snow-shoe track, 
and this gave me renewed energy, for I knew 
it had been made by a hunter from the Indian 

100 



OBurtion J^alton^taH i^uSBarti 

camps, and that by following the back track 1 
should reach the lodges. Dufrain was not in 
the least moved by this good fortune; in fact, 
was stupid and inclined to stop, frequently 
crossed himself, while his lips moved as if in 
prayer, and it required much effort and per- 
suasion on my part to get him to move slowly 
forward, he frequently protesting that he could 
not move another step. 

Intent on my progress, and for a time for- 
getting my comrade, I advanced as rapidly as 
possible, and on looking around for Dufrain, 
I found he was not in sight; I deliberated a 
moment whether to return for him or continue 
on my way. My own strength was fast failing, 
and I feared that delay would be certain death. 
I resolved, however, to make a last effort, and 
turned back; I found him lying asleep in the 
snow. I tried to arouse him, but he would 
open his eyes but for a moment, and say, ''I 
can't; leave me." Finding my attempts use- 
less, I dug away the snow, wrapped him in his 
blanket, with mine over him, and left him. 

I started forward conscious that I myself 
might soon be in the same condition, though 
determined not to give up while there was a 
hope. I felt no hunger, but was very weak; 
the perspiration ran from every pore, and at 
times everything seemed to waiver before me, 
with momentary darkness. I seemed almost 
to faint; still I moved on, reeling like a drunken 
man. Coming to new tracks, and hearing the 

lOI 



€|)e 9lutoBio0rapl)p of 



barking of a dog, told me I was nearing a 
lodge, and gave me new strength to advance. 
Soon I was gladdened by the glimpse of a 
lodge, and a few minutes more was seated on 
a bearskin within. It was a solitary hut on 
the bank of a creek, and in it was a middle- 
aged Indian, with his arm bandaged, and his 
squaw with three or four young children. I 
sat and awaited the usual custom of the Indians 
to set before a stranger something to eat, but 
seeing no move in that direction, I told the 
squaw that I was hungry and had not eaten 
for four days and nights. She exclaimed: 
''Nin guid buck-a-ta-minna baein" (we too 
are hungry; my husband broke his arm). She 
opened a sack and took out a small portion of 
pounded corn, which she stirred into a kettle 
of water and placed over the fire to boil, and 
soon as it was ready gave me a very small 
quantity, about half a pint, and replaced the 
kettle over the fire. 

I supposed I was hungry, though I did not 
feel so, and supping a little from the wooden 
dish found it difficult to swallow. This fright- 
ened me and I lay down and slept. 

I was awakened by the squaw, who gave 
me more soup from the kettle, which I ate 
with a relish and asked for more. *'No," 
she said, "lie down and sleep, and I will awake 
you and give you more after awhile. " This I 
did, and was awakened after dark refreshed 
but very sore and lame; took what soup was 

102 



^Buttion J>afton^taIl i^uBfiatti 

given me, and still wanting more; she refused 
me, saying, ** after a little"; and that she 
knew best how to relieve me. 

I noticed that the children frequently went 
out of doors, and that there was a look of 
anxiety on the countenances of both the Indian 
and squaw, which I thought was on my 
account ; but asking, he rephed that his oldest 
son went out early in the morning to try to 
kill something for them to eat, and they were 
fearful some accident had befallen him. 

Up to this time I had not spoken of Dufrain, 
because I saw there was no one to go for him, 
and had there been, he could not have been 
reached before dark. The moon would rise 
about midnight, and then I had determined to 
ask the squaw to go with me for him, though 
1 had no idea of finding him alive. They 
were well acquainted with him, and on my 
telling them of his situation the squaw parched 
what corn she had left, pounded it and got it 
ready, and we made preparations to go after 
him. 

The squaw and her husband both thought 
that their son had gone to the river to see if 
the canoe and scaffold were safe, and that it 
was his track that I had followed to the camp. 
While we were discussing this idea, the dogs 
barked; the children ran out, and soon returned 
with the news that their brother had returned ; 
and he soon entered, bearing a cub, whereat 
there was great rejoicing. It being the first 
103 



€f)c 9luto6iograpl)p of 



of the larger animals he had ever killed, it must 
be offered to the Great Spirit as a thank offering, 
and the boy must fast for two days. The 
father sat up and beat a drum ; the boy black- 
ened his face, the bear was skinned, and pre- 
parations made for a feast, though fortunately 
the feast was not to be similar to the one I 
had attended shortly before, when all was to 
be eaten. 

After hearing who I was, and that Jaco 
(Dufrain's Indian name) had been left behind, 
the boy volunteered to go with me in search 
of him; and when the moon rose, though I 
was scarcely able to move, we started. The 
Indian and his wife protested against my going, 
insisting that the boy and his mother could go 
without me, and I should gladly have con- 
sented to remain had I not known that if my 
comrade was found alive no one but me could 
get him to make an attempt to move. 

The boy in his hunting had made a long 
detour, and on my describing the place where 
I had left Dufrain, he was able to reach it by 
a much shorter route than by following his 
tracks as I had done. In about an hour we 
reached Dufrain and found him apparently 
lifeless, but still warm. By much effort we 
aroused him so that he could speak, but he 
persisted in remaining where he was, said he 
was stiff and could not walk, and closed his 
eyes and again dropped to sleep. It required 
our utmost effort to raise him to his feet, 
104 



and by short stages to finally reach the camp 
just as the sun rose. 

We made him as comfortable as possible, 
and by feeding him a little every few minutes 
revived him. His feet and legs were badly 
swollen, so much so that I was obliged to rip 
his leggings to get them off; his feet were in 
a most terrible condition; the strings of his 
snow-shoes had so bruised his toes that blood 
had oozed out and completely saturated the 
neips; and, to add to his misery, the poor fellow 
was ruptured, and it was several days before 
I could replace the protruding parts. He 
gained slowly, and it was a week before he 
could sit up; and despairing of his restoration 
so as to be able to bear the journey home, 
with the assistance of the boy and his mother 
I constructed a train-de-clese on which to 
remove him. 

During my ten days' stay I had daily caught 
in traps from one to a dozen partridges; and 
these, added to what the boy had killed, fur- 
nished us a sufficiency of food, though at times 
our rations were limited. 

I finally got my sled fully rigged, though 
my friend was still unable to sit up more than 
an hour at a time. We had already spent 
more than ten days, and I felt that I could 
remain no longer, and a decision must be 
made, either to leave him and return for him, 
or draw him on the sled to our home. The 
old Indian said we might accomplish his re- 
105 



€l)e ^tutoBiogtapIjp of 



moval; but he thought it extremely doubtful, 
the country being very hilly and covered with 
underbrush. I left it to Dufrain to decide, 
and as he chose to go, I started, with the 
young Indian to assist me. We had a terrible 
journey over hills and through thick under- 
growth, and after three days of most severe 
toil reached our trading house, our invalid 
having borne the journey remarkably well. 

The other party had only returned two days 
before, and all were anxious about us, and 
were about organizing an expedition to go in 
search of us. I was almost worn out from 
the hardships I had endured and from drag- 
ging my comrade. 

Dufrain never left our cabin until we carried 
him to a canoe in the spring to start for 
Mackinaw. There was a light wind the day 
we started and the motion of the canoe caused 
vomiting, and before we could reach a harbor 
at White River he died, and we buried him 
in the bluff. He was very fond of card-play- 
ing during his life, and some Indians having 
camped on the bluffs where we buried him 
reported that at night they heard his voice 
calling out the name of the cards as he played 
them, "corno" (diamond), ''cune" (heart), 
etc.; and thoughnhe river was a great resort 
for the Indians in the spring, where they used 
the peculiar white clay for washing their blan- 
kets, for years after they avoided it, believing 
it to be haunted. 

io6 



4Burtion ^alton^tall i^uBtiarti 



KALAMAZOO RIVER. — COSA. — AN ACCI- 
DENT.— A VISIT. — WOLF STORIES.— 
CROOKED CREEK. 

We were among the very first of the traders to 
reach Mackinaw, and after making my returns 
to Mr. Stewart I was detailed for a time to the 
retail store. On Mr. Matthews' return from 
Montreal I was assigned to duty under him in 
the assorting and packing house, where the 
business was conducted in the same manner 
as previously described, and lasted until the 
last of July or first of August. 

My third winter was spent on the Kalama- 
zoo River, in Michigan, my trading house 
being on the north bank of the river, and 
opposite the present city of Kalamazoo, and 
for the first time I had full control of an 
** outfit." ' 

My crew consisted of three Canadians, who 
were accustomed to trading at that post, and 
an Indian named Cosa,'^well and favorably 
known among the Indians for bravery and in- 
telligence. He had years before abandoned 
hunting, preferring to engage for the winter 
with some one of the regular traders as an 
ordinary man or voyageur. He received one 
hundred dollars for his winter's service, which 
was considered a high price for so short a time, 
and was as much as two Canadians received 
for a whole year. But as he was perfectly 
familiar with the country, and well acquainted 
107 



€l)e auto6iograp]^p of 



7 

with the Indians, had a good reputation as a 
trader, and furnished two horses of his own, 
besides the services of his wife, I was glad to 
secure him even at that price. 

This post was a pleasant one, though the 
hunting grounds were very much scattered, 
which made constant watchfulness and activity 
necessary to secure the furs and dispose of 
goods. The winter was one of great hardship, 
and my men were constantly out collecting 
furs, and occasionally I myself made a trip. 
Cosa sometimes took his wife with him in 
place of a man — she riding on one of the 
horses. 

One evening on their return they reported 
having come across a camp of Indians on a 
branch of the Paw-Paw River, who had an 
abundance of furs and peltries, but Cosa, 
being out of goods, could only get from them 
what they already owed. 

One of the Indians was very sick, and his 
friends had sent for a famous Indian doctor, 
who Cosa said always introduced his curing 
ceremonies by a drunken carousal. Cosa 
thought that we might get their furs if we could 
reach them ahead of the St. Joseph traders 
^ (who were connected with an opposition com- 
pany), but he considered a little whisky abso- 
lutely necessary to secure their trade. I asked 
him to return to their camp in the morning 
with goods only, but he said he was very tired. 
I told him that it was but a short day's journey; 
io8 



that he could take his other horse that had been 
resting; to pack his goods, and that I would 
go with him, and leave his wife to keep house. 
He replied that it would be of no use without 
whisky, but that if I would take the small keg 
he would go. He really needed two or three 
days* rest, and had the reputation of being a 
stubborn, fearless fellow, this reputation being 
confirmed by his many scars, and I did not 
like to command him to go. Heretofore he 
had shown a good disposition, was obedient and 
willing, and seemed to take more interest in 
the expedition, and had a greater desire for 
good results, than any of the other men, and 
I did not like to anger him if it could be 
avoided. I sought a private opportunity of 
consulting his wife, who confirmed all he 
had said, remarking, however, that she feared 
her husband could not refrain from joining in 
the ceremonies and getting drunk with the 
others. , Her views decided me to accede to 
Cosa*s wishes, and I said to him: **Now, 
Cosa, if we take the Httle keg and go to-morrow, 
will you promise to stick by me, and not taste 
a drop?" He promised, and that night two 
bales of merchandise, with the little two-gallon 
keg of highwines, watered one-third, were pre- 
pared; and at daylight in the morning the 
pony was brought from the woods, saddled 
and loaded, and we started, Cosa taking the 
lead. 

I had also provided an empty one-gallon keg, 
109 



€1)0 aiuto6i0gtapl)p of 



and when about dark we arrived within hearing 
of the camp, I told Cosa that we would fill 
our small keg, mixed with half water, and hide 
the other, so that the Indians thinking that 
was all we had would be the sooner satisfied. 
To this he assented, saying it was wise. 
Though the highwines had been diluted one- 
third it was still quite strong. Having no 
funnel, how to further mix it was a dilemma, 
but we soon found a way. We would draw a 
mouthful from the larger keg and spit it into 
the smaller, and then take a mouthful of water 
and transfer it in the same way, Cosa and I 
alternating in the operation. It would have 
been wiser had I done this alone; but I found it 
burned my mouth badly and so permitted him 
to aid me, and thus gave him a taste, though 
I hardly think he swallowed any at the time. 
The transfer having been made, we hid the 
larger keg and proceeded to the camp, and to 
our disappointment found that Bartram^ men 
had been there the day before and secured all 
the furs and peltries except a few remnants. 

Some of the Indians had gone for the medi^- 
cine man, while others had gone to Bartrand 
for whisky, which had been promised them in 
the trade. I would have returned had it been 
possible, but the horse was tired out, and the 
night very dark, so we accepted comfortable 
quarters which were tendered us, Cosa prom- 
ising not to disclose the fact of our having 
whisky. The secret got out, however, and 
no 



45utticm Jjalton^tall i^u66arti 

at earl^ morn I was beset on every side, Cosa 
joining in the demand for the whisky. 

There seemed to be no way but to sell a 
little, so I extorted a promise from Cosa to 
remain with me in the lodge and not to drink 
any, and commenced collecting what few furs 
they had in exchange for the whisky. 

Cosa did not long keep his promise, but 
began to drink, and I saw the necessity of 
rehiding the larger keg before Cosa should 
reach the place. With the assistance of a 
squaw I changed the hiding place, first having 
refilled the smaller keg (which I again diluted), 
and hid it on the scaffold of the lodge I was 
in, and carefully covered it over. Cosa had 
told the other Indians I had more whisky, and 
joined them in urging me to give it to them, 
stating that if I did not they would go and take 
it; and being refused they went with him in 
search of it. Being disappointed in their at- 
tempts the Indians began to separate and go 
to their lodges, and soon all was quiet in the 
camp. 

As my feet were wet I pulled off my moc- 
casins and laid down in a wigwam with my feet 
to the fire. Cosa still importuning me for 
more drink, and I positively refusing, he, with 
two drunken companions, after a long search, 
succeeded in finding the concealed keg. The 
squaw who assisted me in hiding the **fire 
water" had watched them, and quickly in- 
formed me of their discovery. I ran out into 
III 



€1)0 aiuto6iDgrapl)p of 



the snow barefooted, and succeeded in reach- 
ing the place before they could remove it from 
the scaffold. I told the two Indians that it 
was my property, and not theirs; that I should 
give them no more, and forbade them to touch 
it. They desisted, but Cosa, to show his inde- 
pendence, advanced to take the keg, when I 
seized him by the throat, threw him on his 
back, and placing my knees on his stomach, 
choked him so he could neither move nor 
speak, and held him thus until the squaw had 
removed the keg and again hidden it. I would 
not let him up until he promised me to lie 
down and sleep ; for a time he refused to prom- 
ise; but as I only released my grip upon his 
throat long enough for him to answer, and 
then tightened it with renewed vigor, he was 
soon glad to promise, when I allowed him to 
arise and conducted him to my own comfort- 
able quarters, covered him up, and lay down by 
his side. 

Cosa was considerably injured, and after 
becoming sober slept but little. I myself kept 
wide awake until daylight, when I arose, got 
the pony from the woods, loaded him, and as 
soon as we had eaten our breakfast we departed 
homeward, picking up the keg on the way. 
Cosa was very hoarse from his severe choking, 
and very much mortified and humbled, and 
begged me not to tell what had taken place 
when we reached home; he was afterward 
very faithful and attentive to his duties. 

112 



oButtiott ^alton^tall i^uBfiarti 

In the month of November I made a trip to 
Chicago, and had a very deHghtful visit of a 
week in Mr. Kinzie's family, received my 
clothing which I had left there on my previous 
visit, and returned to my post. 

During the fall of this year I made a cache in 
the sandhills at the mouth of the Kalamazoo 
River, in which I concealed many valuables, 
and early in the month of March following I took 
one of the men and went in a canoe for the art- 
icles. We found everything safe and in good 
condition, and having loaded them into the canoe 
started home. The weather was very severe 
for the season, and the snow still deep, which 
made our camping very unpleasant, and the 
current being swift, we had much difficulty in 
ascending the rapids, at the foot of which we 
had made our night's camp. I had collected 
some fine mink, otter, and other furs at two 
Indian camps on the route, and these, added 
to the articles taken from the cachCj made a 
very valuable load. 

I took my position in the bow of the canoe, 
leaving my man to steer. We had passed the 
rapids, but were still in a very strong current, 
when we came to a fallen tree lying in the 
river which formed a partial eddy. In pushing 
around the tree the strong current struck the 
boat sidewise, caused it to careen, and I lost 
my balance. To prevent the canoe from up- 
setting I allowed myself to go overboard and 
swam down the river; the man quickly turn- 
"3 



€l)e autoBiograp|)p of 



ing the head of the boat down stream, we both 
landed at the bottom of the rapids at the same 
time, where we found the fire of our previous 
camp still burning. After I had dried my cloth- 
ing we again ascended, and reached home the 
following day without further mishap. 

Nothing unusual occurred at my post that 
winter further than I have related. 

I made a call on Rix Robinson,' who was a 
trader on Grand River above Grand Rapids, 
also in the employ of the American Fur Com- 
pany, and my nearest neighbor. It was in the 
month of January, a few days after a thaw 
which had flooded the river, and when I 
reached the South Branch of Grand River I 
found the bottoms flooded, but frozen hard 
enough to bear me up, the river very high and 
filled with floating ice, and no means of cross- 
ing, and I had either to return or swim for it. 
Though the day was very cold, I chose the lat- 
ter, undressed, and having tied my clothing in 
as compact a bundle as possible, rested it on 
the back of my neck, holding it in place by a 
string between my teeth. I plunged in and 
soon landed on the opposite shore, and dress- 
ing myself as quickly as possible, I started on 
a run and soon became thoroughly warmed. 

It was growing late, but being on the trail 
leading to Robinson's I felt sure of reaching 
his house, and arrived on the bank of the main 
river opposite to it about nine o'clock. I hal- 
loed a number of times, and began to despair 
114 



oBurtion Jjalton^taH I^utifiarti 

of being heard, and thought I should be com- 
pelled to camp for the night almost at the door 
of my friend. I gave my last and strongest 
yell, aroused a Frenchman, who came down 
to the shore and answered me, saying, in 
Indian, ** Can't come over," and explaining 
that there was too much floating ice to cross. 
My answer, in French, telling who I was 
brought from him the reply, **Wait, we will 
come over"; after a short time two men came 
for me in a boat, and I soon found myself 
beside a warm fire in my friend's cabin; supper 
was ordered, to which I did ample justice. 

Robinson was much surprised at the account 
of my crossing the river. I spent a few days 
very pleasantly, and before leaving arranged 
with my host to wait at the mouth of the river 
for me on his way back to Mackinaw, so that 
we might proceed from there in company, I 
promising to be at the meeting place at an 
appointed day, not later than the tenth of May. 
Leaving Robinson's cabin at early dawn I 
reached my own post soon after dark, having 
traveled sixty miles. I had made a successful 
winter, and disposed of all my goods except 
a few remnants, and about the twentieth of 
April abandoned my post and descended the 
river, stopping for a day or two at tlje foot of 
the rapids, where a large number >6f Indians 
w^ere assembled to catch sturgeon.^ 

In due time I reached Grand River, where 
I found Mr. Robinson awaiting me, and after 

115 



€|)e auto6iograpf)p of 



a rest of six or eight days we left for Macki- 
naw. We were among the first to arrive, 
and after setthng my accounts, I was again 
detailed to the fur-packing house for the season. 

I had received letters from my mother 
telling of her loneliness and of her great desire 
to see me, and felt very badly over the news 
these had conveyed; and when Mr. Crooks 
told me I was to again return to my post on 
the Kalamazoo River, I asked to be dis- 
charged, giving as a reason that my mother 
was a widow, and my brother and four sisters 
were all younger than myself, and needed my 
services and protection. I was then eighteen 
years old, and felt myself a man in all things. 
Mr. Crooks said the company could not spare 
me, and he thought I could serve my mother 
and family more acceptably by remaining; 
told me that he had corresponded with my 
mother, and when last at Montreal intended 
to have gone to Connecticut to see her, but 
had not the time, and by his arguments pre- 
vailed upon me to remain. 

I expressed my desire to again go out with 
the Illinois ** brigade," giving my reasons 
therefor; and these, aided by Mr. Deschamps' 
solicitations (he claiming that he had only 
consented to part with me for a year, expect- 
ing me to return and take charge of the post 
on the Illinois River), induced Mr. Crooks — 
though reluctantly — to give his consent to my 
going out with my old friend and comrade. 
ii6 



oBurtion ^alton^tafl i^u66arli 

In due course of time our *' brigade" started, 
the twelve^ boats led by Mr. Deschamps and 
the old familiar boat song. I was again with 
my old companions, all of whom gave me a 
cordial welcome. Day after day we pursued 
our voyage, the ever monotonous row, row, 
being varied by no incidents of interest, until 
we reached Chicago. We had made an un- 
usually quick trip, having been delayed by 
adverse winds but two or three days on the 
entire journey. Again I was rejoiced with a 
home in Mr. Kinzie's family, and remained 
there for several days, until the "brigade" 
again moved for the Illinois River. 

The water in the rivers was unusually low 
this season, and in places the Desplaines could 
be crossed on foot without wetting the sole of 
the shoe; or, more properly speaking, the 
skin of the foot, as covering was out of fashion, 
or had not come in, at that time. 

We were compelled to carry our goods and 
effects from the South Branch to the Des- 
plaines on our backs, leaving our empty boats 
to pass through the usual channel from the 
South Branch to Mud Lake, and through that 
to the West End, and through the other channel. 
Having completed the portage to the Des- 
plaines and encountered the usual fatigues in 
descending that river, without unusual delay 
or accident we reached Bureau Station, where 
I had passed my first winter. Mr. Beebeauwas 
still in charge, though he was much more feeble 
117 



€1)0 auto6tograp{)p of 



than when I last saw him, nor had his temper 
and disposition undergone any change for the 
better, but on the contrary he was more irri- 
table and disagreeable, if this was possible. 
My friend Antoine was also there and delight- 
ed to see me, and we spent many hours 
together, talking over old times and recounting 
our hunting experience of the winter of i8i8- 
19. He had grown to manhood and was fully 
able to perform the duties and endure the 
hardships of a voyageur^ in which capacity 
Mr. Deschamps engaged him for that post. 
He was greatly disappointed when he learned 
that I was not to winter with them but was to 
take the position of trader at a new post fur- 
ther down the river; he applied to Mr. Des- 
champs to be transferred to my post, but this 
was refused him, Mr. Deschamps stating to me 
that he feared I would not have the obedience 
from him that my position required, owing to 
our previous intimate relations in which he had 
been both my companion and equal. I saw 
the justice of this and acquiesced in his deci- 
sion. Before parting, however, Antoine and 
I took a day's hunting together, tramping over 
ground which had become so familiar two years 
before, and recalling many pleasant incidents 
of those happy days. 

After resting a few days, and selecting the 

goods and men to be left at that post, we 

proceeded on our way, making our next halt 

at Fort Clark (Peoria), where we found several 

118 



oButtimi .^alton^tall i^uBBarti 

families, had located, among whom were Mr. 
Fulton", the first pioneer settler at that point, 
who still resides in that county; a Mr. Bogar- 
dus, brother of General Bogardus, of New 
York, a highly intelligent gentleman, and his 
estimable and accomplished wife. 

Two miles below, at a point now known as 
Wesley City," was Mr. Beason's post, and 
there we remained about one week, during 
which time I went almost daily to the fort. 



WOLF STORIES. 

A melancholy incident occurred there during 
the winter. On the river bottom opposite 
Beason's post were a ^half-dozen or more 
lodges of Pottawatomies. An aged squaw, 
accompanied by a young granddaughter, was 
returning from an absence from the camp, and 
when at Kickapoo Creek they were attacked 
by a large female timber wolf and her cubs. 
The little girl escaped, and running home 
reported to her brother, who immediately 
started to the old squaw's rescue. On reach- 
ing the place he found the wolves had killed 
his grandmother and were feasting upon her 
flesh. Though armed only with a tomahawk 
and knife, he boldly attacked the animals and 
succeeded in driving them away from her body, 
but not without being himself badly bitten, 
and, indeed, I doubt not he would have 
departed for the *' happy hunting grounds" 
119 



€f)e aut0bio0rapl)p of 



by the same route his grandmother had taken 
had he not been reinforced by his friends, who 
had learned of his peril. 

It is rarely that a wolf will attack a human 
being, unless closely pressed or famishing with 
hunger. I remember that once when Noel 
Vasseur and myself were eating our lunch at 
Blue Island, while our horses were grazing, 
a wolf came so close to us that Vasseur toma- 
hawked him. 

Another time, Jacques Jombeaux and myself 
had camped for the night, and before lying 
down I ^nt to look after my horse, which I 
had spanceled on the prairie. I found him 
feeding quietly, and returning, I noticed what 
I supposed to be an Indian dog following me. 
I called and whistled to him, but he paid no 
attention to the noise. When I reached the 
camp I told Jacques that there was a camp of 
Indians near, as I had been followed by one of 
their dogs, and that he must hang up the 
provisions. He hung them on a saphng close 
by our camp fire. We were lying with our 
feet close to the fire when my supposed dog 
came up and put his forefeet on the sapling in 
his efforts to get our meat. The light of the 
fire showed him to be a prairie wolf, and enabled 
Jacques to shoot him with his rifle. 

I knew of an Indian who was treed by a 
pack of wolves, and there kept for eighteen 
or more hours, until his comrade, becoming- 
alarmed at his absence, found and relieved him. 

120 



We left Beason's and proceeded on our way 
to other stations down the river. Mr. Des- 
champs decided toestabUsh a new post at the 
mouth of Crooke(i^ Creek, and to locate me in 
charge. We soon agreed upon the spot on 
which to build my house, and my outfit having 
been unloaded Mr. Deschamps proceeded on 
his way. 

We first constructed a pen of logs, the sides 
of which were about six feet high, within which 
was packed my goods; these were covered with 
sails and tarpaulins. Our camp was made 
on the south side of the inclosure, both for 
convenience and the better protection of the 
goods. These arrangements having been com- 
pleted we proceeded immediately to build a 
good-sized trading house. 

Before reaching this place I had felt symp- 
toms of ague, loss of appetite with slight chills; 
still I managed to keep up, and my house- 
building progressed so well that by the time of 
Deschamps' return it was up and the store part 
covered, so that the goods could be moved 
into it. Mr. Deschamps thought my symp- 
toms denoted bilious fever and prescribed for 
me accordingly. 

My fever continued to increase, and I be- 
came very sick, was unable to sit up, and daily 
grew worse. 

Two Frenchmen, who had been shooting 
geese and swans at Portage de Sioux, came 
down the lUinois River in a large pirogue, on 

121 



€f)e autoBio0rapl)p of 



their way to St. Louis to market their game. 
Though their boat was heavily laden, by prom- 
ising to pay for the game they would be 
compelled to leave to make room for me, and 
also to pay liberally for my passage, I succeeded 
in persuading them to take me as a passenger 
to St. Louis, where I felt compelled to go to 
consult a physician, and their arrival seemed 
providential. 

While the men were eating I made prepara- 
tions for my departure. Calling my interpreter, 
I told him of my determination, and instructed 
him that should I fail to return by a certain 
day he should send word to Mr. Deschamps 
and ask for orders. My men went to work 
with a will moving and repacking the game so 
as to give sufficient room for me in the boat 
without leaving any part of the load, and I 
was carried and placed in the boat, in as 
comfortable a position as could be found. 

The wind was from the south, and the river 
very rough; the motion of the boat caused me 
to vomit excessively and I soon became un- 
conscious. The men carried me along until 
they came to a settler's cabin near the bank of 
the river, and supposing me to be dying, took 
me ashore, left me there, and pursued their jour- 
ney. I do not know how long I was unconscious, 
but when I awoke I found myself in bed, 
while a young girl was sitting by fanning me. 
She jumped up and called her mother, who 
coming in, cautioned me not to get excited, gave 

122 



40urtion J^alton^tall i^uB6arti 

me some tea, and while I was drinking it told 
me where I was and how I came there. From 
that time I improved rapidly, and in the course 
of a week or ten days I was able to start on 
foot for my trading house, about thirty-five 
miles distant, which I reached in two days, 
much to the joy and astonishment of my men. 
I cannot conceive why I have lost from my; 
memory the name of those hospitable people, | 
who took me into their house and nursed mej 
so kindly, but so it is, and their name I cannotj 
remember. I never saw them but once after-j 
ward. 

I found my house was nearly completed. I 
had a good appetite, and increased daily in 
strength, so that I was soon able to hunt on the 
river bottom, ranging two or three miles from 
the house. One bright November morning I 
started out for a turkey hunt, and soon came 
across some fresh horse tracks which I sup- 
posed were those of Indian ponies, and gave 
them no further thought; but at a little 
creek I saw the tracks again, and in a muddy 
spot I noticed the fresh impression of a horse- 
shoe, and so followed their trail, and after 
about a mile travel came up with the riders 
and found them to be Mr. John Wood and 
Mr. Tilden, on their way to the military tract 
to locate soldiers' land- warrants. I thought 
they were lost (though the Governor always 
denied it), as they were not in the direct course, 
and their tracks made a strange circuit for 
123 



€{)e 3lutD6io0rapl)p of 



persons knowing their whereabouts. I led 
them to my house and prepared for them the 
best meal in my power, of which they ate very 
heartily and with decided relish. Governor 
Wood has often told me that it was the best 
meal he ever ate. I am quite willing to be- 
lieve it was good, and flatter myself that the 
cooking I did in those days, if not in the style 
of a French cook, was, for plain food, deserv- 
ing of great praise. I have never tasted of 
any roast turkey that,, seemed to me so excel- 
lent as those fat wild^ones killed and prepared 
by my own hands. 

I used to hang them in front of my large 

fire place suspended by a string, and gently 

turn them with a long stick until they were 

nicely browned, and then with fat^ raccoon or 

bear meat boiled, I had a dinner fit for a king. 

My new found friends left me in the afternoon 

i though I tried hard to detain them; like most 

■of the enterprising "Yankees" of those early 

I days they could not be stayed. Both of these 

gentlemen located in Quincy,' Illinois, became 

prominent citizens, and finally died there. 

Mr. Wood was at one time Governor of the 

State of Illinois, and I ever considered him as 

one of my warmest friends. 

My house was soon completed and furnished 
with floor, three-legged stools, table, and bunks, 
all made of puncheons. It was lighted by a 
window in the south end, made of two sheets 
of foolscap paper nicely greased; and with a 
124 



oBurtion ^alton^tall i^u66arti 



fine large clay chimney that would take in a 
six-foot log, I felt that the cold or storms of 
winter could have no terrors for me. 

I was now fully recovered in health, and all 
my care and anxiety was for the success of the 
winter's trade. 

ATTACKED BY AN INDIAN.— ALEXIS ST. 
MARTIN.— SLEEPING BEAR. 

The Indians were Kickapoos and Delawares, 
and being a stranger among them, I was 
forced to depend on my interpreter, who was 
well acquainted with them, to know whom to 
trust. 

It was our custom to give the Indian hunters 
goods on credit, in the fall of the year, so that 
they might give their whole time to the hunt, 
and, indeed, it would have been difficult, if not 
impossible, for them to hunt without the nec- 
essary clothing, guns, and ammunition. The 
conditions of this credit were that these ad- 
vances should be paid from the proceeds of 
their first winter's hunt, but should they fail 
to pay, after having devoted all their furs for 
the purpose, and shown a disposition to act 
honestly, the balance was carried over to the 
next year, but this balance was seldom paid. 
The debtors reasoned that, having appropriated 
the entire proceeds of their season's hunt to 
the liquidation of their indebtedness, it was 
the fault of the Great Spirit that they had not 
125 



€1^0 9lut06iograpf)p of 



been able to pay in full, and so they considered 
the debt canceled. We were very careful 
who we trusted. We satisfied ourselves 
first, that the person's intentions were honest, 
and that he was industrious and persevering; 
and, second, that he was a skilled hunter and 
trapper, and knew where to find game in abun- 
dance. If he lacked in these qualifications he 
was deemed unworthy of credit, at least to a 
large amount. 

I was applied to for credit by an Indian 
who my interpreter said ** never paid," or if 
he paid at all, it was only a portion of his in- 
debtedness. I accordingly refused him, at 
which he was greatly angered and threatened 
revenge. 

One morning shortly after, I was sitting 
alone before the fire in my cabin, on a three- 
legged stool made of puncheons, reading a book, 
when the Indian returned and stole softly into 
the room, and up behind me, with his toma- 
hawk raised to strike me. I did not hear 
him, but saw his shadow, and looking up 
quickly saw him, and threw up my left arm 
just in time to arrest the blow. The handle 
of the tomahawk striking my arm, it was 
thrown from his hand and fell on the floor 
close to the fire-place. The corner of the 
blade cut through my cap and into my fore- 
head — the mark of which I still carry — while 
my arm was temporarily paralyzed from the 
blow. I sprang to my feet just as he reached 
126 



oBurtiDn ^alton^tall i^u6Barti 

to his belt to draw a knife, and throwing my 
arms around his body, grasped my left wrist 
with my right hand, and held him so firmly that 
he could not draw his knife. I allowed him 
to throw me down on the floor, and roll me 
over and over in his exertions to liberate him- 
self and reach his knife, while I made no 
exertions except to keep my grip. I bled 
profusely from the wound on my forehead, and 
my eyes were frequently blinded by the blood, 
which I wiped off as well as I could on his 
naked body. It was fully five minutes be- 
fore my arm began to recover sensitiveness, 
and a much longer time before I recovered its 
full use. 

My grasp was weakening, yet I clung on 
afraid to trust to my lame arm. My opponent 
was breathing very heavily, and I knew he was 
exhausting his strength in his efforts to rid 
himself of my embrace, while I was saving 
mine. When my arm had sufficiently recov- 
ered, and we had rolled up to where the stool 
lay, I let go of him, and seizing the stool struck 
him a stunning blow upon the head, which I 
followed up with others on his head and face, 
until he showed no further signs of Hfe, when 
I seized him by his long hair and dragged him 
out of doors, whooping for my men, who soon 
made their appearance. Just then his squaws 
appeared on the scene. He had come on his 
pony, telling them he was going to kill Hub- 
bard, and they had followed on as rapidly as 
127 



€l)e anto6iogtapI)p of 



they could on foot. They bathed his head 
with cold water, and, greatly to my relief, soon 
restored him to consciousness. I reflected 
that I had punished him too severely, and 
regretted that I had done more than to strike 
him the first blow and then disarm him. My 
men were greatly alarmed, and especially so 
was my interpreter, whom I sent to the chief 
of the band to explain the case. 

The chief returned with my man and blamed 
me for injuring him so severely, thinking it 
would result in his death. However, he used 
his influence with the band in my favor, telling 
them the goods were mine, and that I had 
a perfect right to refuse to sell them on credit 
and to defend myself when attacked, and they 
soon separated for their winter hunting 
grounds, much to my relief. The injured 
Indian did not recover so as to do any hunting 
that winter, and occasionally sent me a message 
demanding pay for his injuries, which I posi- 
tively refused, much to the dissatisfaction of 
my confidential man. 

The winter passed and we were ready to 
break up, daily expecting orders from Mr. 
Deschamps to start on the return trip to 
Mackinaw. The Indians had returned from 
their hunting grounds and were camped some 
five or six miles from us. They had mostly 
paid up, though the winter had not been a suc- 
cessful one for them. 

The chief was a young man, and had become 
128 



4Burtion ^alton^tall I^ufiBarti 

very friendly to me. He advised me to give 
presents to the Indian I had injured; but I still 
persisted in my refusal, determined to risk the 
consequences rather than to pay a man for 
attempting to kill me. This was reported 
to my enemy, who had fully recovered his 
strength, and exasperated him still further. 
One morning he came with two of his friends, 
all with blackened faces, a token of war, and 
demanded of me pay for his injuries. I again 
refused, telling him that it was his own fault; 
that he came upon me stealthily, and would 
have killed me had I not discovered him just 
in time to save myself. While thus talking I 
heard the tramp of horses, caused by the arri- 
val of the chief and others of the band, who, 
hearing of his intention to seek revenge, had 
hastened to try to effect a friendly arrange- 
ment. 

On entering I stated to the chief the demand 
made upon me, and my refusal, and that now 
he and his friends had come hke men, and not 
Hke squaws, and that this time I was prepared 
for them. 

**I came," I said, *' among you with goods 
for your accommodation; trade was my object, 
and I have as much right to do as I please 
with my goods as you have with the pony you 
ride. You would not allow any one to take 
him without your consent; and, should any one 
attempt to take him by force, would you not 
defend yourself? Or would you, hke a coward, 
129 



€f)e autoBxograpl^p of 



give him up? Say, would you? " **No/' he 
replied. "Neither did I, nor will I. I am 
very sorry for what I did — I mean, the result, 
causing the loss of his winter's hunt; but I 
will not pay him for it." The chief said to 
them, "The trader is right; the goods were his; 
he would not trust because our friend (point- 
ing to the interpreter) said you never paid. 
We all know that is true." After a moment 
of silence the Indian extended his hand to me, 
which I took. "Now," I said, "we are 
friends, and I wish to give you some evidence 
of my friendship, not to pay you, but only as a 
token of my good will. " We all had a smoke, 
and I presented him with articles he most 
needed, much to his surprise. And so that 
difficulty was ended, much to the satisfaction 
of my men, who were fearful that great trouble 
would result from it. 

About ten days after the above settlement I 
received orders from Mr. Deschamps to vacate 
/my post and join the "brigade" at Reason's 
post. There we remained a week or more, 
during which time I formed an intimate 
acquaintance with the settlers at Peoria. 

About the first of April we resumed our 
journey toward Mackinaw, proceeding leisure- 
ly, and reaching Chicago in due season, where, 
as usual, I found a warm welcome from the 
Kinzie family and officers of the fort. A week 
or ten days was thus joyfully spent, and I 
deeply regretted the day of our departure. 
130 



OButtion ^alton^tall i^utifiatti 

Coasting, as before, the east shore of Lake 
Michigan, we arrived at Mackinaw early in 
June. On the sixth of that month I was 
present when Alexis St. Martin was shot, and 
am probably the only living person who wit- 
nessed the accident. 

The late Major John H. Kinzie had charge 
of the American Fur Company's retail store 
at Michilimackinac. I was in the habit of 
assisting him occasionally when a press of 
customers needed extra clerks. The store 
comprised the ground floor near the foot of 
Fort Hill, bn the corner of the street and the 
road leading up to the fort. The rear part of 
the store was underground, built of stone^ 
which is still standing. 

This St. Martin was at pke time one of the 
American Fur Company' s^engagees, who, with 
quite a number of others, was in the store. 
One of the party was holding a shot-gun (not 
a musket), which was accidentally discharged, 
the whole charge entering St. Martin's body. 
The muzzle was not over three feet from him — 
I think not over two. The wadding entered, 
as well as pieces of his clothing; his shirt took 
fire; he fell, as we supposed, dead. 

Dr. Beaumont, the surgeon of the fort, was 
immediately sent for, and reached the wounded 
man within a very short time — probably three 
minutes. We had just got him on a cot and 
were taking off some of his clothing. 

After Dr. Beaumont had extracted part of 

131 



€fte ^ntofiiogtapljp of 



the shot, pieces of clothing, and dressed his 
wound carefully — Robert Stewart and others 
assisting — he left him, remarking, "The man 
can't live thirty-six hours; I will come and see 
him bye and bye. ' ' In two or three hours he 
visited him again, expressing surprise at finding 
him doing better than he anticipated. 

The next day, I think, he resolved on a 
course of treatment, and brought down his 
instruments, getting out more shot and cloth- 
ing, cutting off ragged ends of the wound, and 
made frequent visits, seeming very much 
interested, informing Mr. Stewart in my pres- 
ence that he thought he could save him. 

As soon as the man could be moved he was 
taken to the fort hospital, where Dr. Beaumont 
could give him better attention. About this 
time, if I am not greatly mistaken, the doc- 
tor announced that he was treating his patient 
with a view to experimenting on his stom- 
ach, being satisfied of his recovery. You know 
the result. 

I knew Dr. Beaumont very well. The 
experiment of introducing food into the 
stomach through the orifice purposely kept 
open and healed with that object, was con- 
ceived by the doctor very soon after the first 
examination. 

My duties in the assorting and packing 

warehouse that summer gave me but little time 

for recreation. In fact, until after six o'clock 

in the evening, I had no time to myself, and 

132 



oButtion J^altoii^tall i^ufitiarti 

I frequently worked until midnight. Sunday- 
afternoon was the only time at which I felt 
fully at leisure to visit my friends, and that was 
passed ^either at Mrs. Fisher's, Mrs. La From- 
boise's' Mrs. Mitcheirs";" Mr. Davenport's or 
Mr. Dousman's, at any of which places I 
was ever a welcome visitor. Thus was 
completed the fourth year of my life as an 
Indian trader. 

Early in the fall I left Mackinaw in the 
usual way for my fifth winter in the Indian 
country. By request of Mr. Crooks we invited 
a gentleman ta/^ccompany us, who desired to 
visit Southern lUinois. He was a gentleman 
of intelligence; in figure, tall and gaunt, and 
possessed of one of those inquisitive minds 
which ever denotes the genuine "Yankee.'* 
He was continually asking questions and 
wanting an explanation of everything he saw or 
heard, and did not hesitate to pry into our pri- 
vate affairs and investigate our personal charac- 
teristics. He was exceedingly awkward in his 
positions in the boat and camp, and could 
never accustom himself to sitting ** tailor 
fashion." His limbs and body were in a con- 
tinuous change of "sprawl," and at times 
interfering with the motions of the oarsmen 
and forcing an involuntary "sacre" from the 
voyageurSy who were proverbial for politeness 
and natural grace. To them he became alter- 
nately an amusement and an annoyance, and as 
he could not understand their language, numer- 

133 



€f)e axitoBioffrapl)? of 



ous jokes were indulged in at his expense, 
and he was nicknamed "La Beaute." 

At one time we were caught in a wind-storm 
which compelled us to land and draw our boats 
up on the beach. On such occasions it was 
customary for the men to carry the Bourgeois 
ashore on their back. Our guest straddled the 
shoulders of one of the men, who purposely 
fell, taking care that his rider should fall under 
him and become completely submerged, at the 
same time exclaiming, "Mon Dieu, monsieur, 
excusez moi," and quickly helping him to his 
feet continued his apologies. Seeing our 
friend completely drenched, the water dripping 
from his clothing, and his hat floating off on 
the waves while the voyageur seemed so sincere 
in his apologies, was too much for our silent 
endurance, and we all broke out into peals of 
laughter, in which our dripping passenger 
heartily joined. His company was agreeable 
to all save the voyageurs and he was always 
invited to choose which boat he preferred to 
ride in for the day.^/' 

We reached Calf River without any particu- 
lar incident, where we camped, and on the 
following morning I invited our friend to walk 
with me to the top of "Sleeping Bear," and 
join the boats when they reached its base. 
" Sleeping Bear " was a high bluff, six or eight 
hundred feet above the lake. With the excep- 
tion of a small clump of trees, its top was a 
naked plain of sand without vegetation of any 
134 



oButtion J^alton^tall l^uB6arti 

kind. Its lake front was very steep, and it was 
with great difficulty and exertion that it could 
be ascended; the loose sand into which one 
sank several inches at each step, slid downward 
carrying one with it, so that progress was slow 
and tedious. To walk down was impossible 
unless one went backward, and in a stooping 
posture. It was real sport to go down by 
quick successive jumps, and fortunate was the 
individual who could accomplish it without 
losing his balance, falling over and rolling to 
the bottom, where he arrived with mouth, nose, 
and ears filled with the fine shifting sand, 
though there was little or no danger of any- 
thing more serious. 

We reached the summit, and after viewing 
the lake and country, and our boats having 
arrived at the base, I said to my friend, "We 
must descend by jumps; take as long leaps as 
you can, and dont stop; follow me"; and 
with a loud * ' whoop ' ' to attract the attention 
of the boatmen, I went down by quick jumps, 
but before reaching the bottom heard the 
shouts of the voyageurs, and though I could 
not look back, I knew full well the cause. 
When I had arrived at the bottom, I looked back 
and saw my companion struggling and rolling, 
while the sand flew in every direction. He 
landed close to my feet pale and frightened, but 
otherwise unharmed. The men screamed with 
laughter, much, as I thought, to the annoy- 
ance of our passenger, though he made no 
135 



€f)e ^utoBiogtap{)p of 



complaint, and having been brushed off, 
took his seat in the boat, and we proceeded on 
our way. 

This incident served for a standing joke, 
and many times was the laughter renewed 
when the ludicrous affair was again presented 
to our minds. Although we had enjoyed our- 
selves so much at his expense, we learned to 
like him for his many good qualities, and when 
we parted with him at Peoria, it was with 
many and sincere regrets. 

Our trip was a tedious one, we being kept 
many days in camp by heavy adverse winds. 
We were nearly a month in reaching Chicago, 
where, as usual, I was welc(^ed by my friends, 
the Kinzies, who, with Dr. Wolcott, rendered 
me many kind services. ^ 

At Chicago I found Pierre Chouteau, Jr., 
of St. Louis, whose acquaintance I had formed 
several years before, and who now proposed 
that I should enter their employ at the expira- 
tion of my engagement with the American 
Fur Company; during my two weeks* 
stay we became very intimate. The ofiScers 
of the fort were good companions, and I 
passed much of my time with them, and 
very pleasantly, and much regretted the time 
of parting. 

We encountered th^ usual trials and hard- 
ships between Chicago and Starved Rock, and 
in due season arrived at Bureau Post, where I 
had passed my first winter, and Mr. Beebeau 
136 



<(0urtion ^alton^tall i^uBBarti 

having died since our departure the previous 
spring, I was placed in charge. 

An opposition trader named Antoine Bour- 
bonais, who was suppHed with goods from St. 
Louis, had located there. He was a large, 
portly man, and for one of his years, was very 
energetic, and was an old, experienced trader. 
Mr. Deschamps told me of his virtues and fail- 
ings, warned me of his tricks, and cautioned 
me as to my intercourse with him. My old 
Indian friends, Wa-ba and Shaub-e-nee, were 
also here to welcome me. 

It was late in the season when we arrived, 
and Bourbonais had already been located for 
more than a month, and in him I found a 
strong competitor. He was possessed of a 
*'foxy" sharpness, was fond of his cups, and 
when under their influence, inclined to be 
quarrelsome. I was as friendly toward him as 
could be expected, and while we treated each 
other with respect, we watched each other 
closely, each striving to supply the best hunt- 
ers with their winter outfits, and in this we 
exercised all the secresy and strategy in 
our power; but after the Indians had re- 
ceived their suppHes and departed to their 
hunting grounds, our intercourse was very 
friendly. 

The tin^ soon arrived when we were to visit 

the camps of the Indians in the interior and 

endeavor to secure their furs, collect the 

amounts with which they had been credited, 

137 



€{)e 9luto6iograpl)p of 



and sell to them the goods which we carried 
with us. Bourbonais had five or six horses, 
while I had none, which of course gave him a 
great advantage, as he could pack his goods 
onto the horses, and return with his furs in the 
same manner, while I depended on the backs 
of my men. 

With a light load, my men could travel as 
fast as the horses, that depended for their 
subsistence on foraging on the half-dead grass 
of the bottom lands. 

To know when and where an expedition was 
to go was very necessary, and every strategy 
was resorted to, and considered perfectly fair, 
to conceal these facts from each other. As a 
consequence, we watched each other con- 
stantly, sometimes quarreled, though never 
coming to blows, quickly becoming friendly 
again, and frequently telling how one had out- 
witted the other in the course of trade. We 
both had a laborious and exciting winter, 
though neither cut the prices on leading 
articles. 

At one time, I learned from an Indian that 
Bourbonais was packing up some bales of 
goods, and we had noticed that he had gathered 
his horses in from their feeding grounds osten- 
sibly to salt' them, all of which led me to 
suspect that an expedition was being fitted out, 
and I detailed a man to watch. Just before 
daylight, my man reported that two horses 
were loaded with goods and another sad- 
138 



oBurtion J^aftonieftafl J^ufiBarti 

died, which convinced me that Bourbonais 
was himself going, as he usually rode, be- 
ing too clumsy to walk. To ascertain where 
they were going, I hired an Indian, who hap- 
pened to be at my house, to follow at a dis- 
tance, pretending to hunt, until they should 
leave the timber and take their course over 
the prairie. 

In the meanwhile, I prepared three bales of 
goods, of twenty-five pounds each, and detailed 
three of my men to carry them, giving Noel 
Vasseur^charge of the expedition, with instruc- 
tions to take the track and overtake Bourbo- 
nais that day, and, if possible, pass him 
without being seen; but if unable to do that, 
to camp with him for the night. The Indian 
returning, reported the course the expedition 
had taken, and we then knew that they were 
bound for one of two hunting bands, but which 
one we could not tell. 

Vasseur started with his men and soon came 
in sight of Bourbonais and his party, but being 
on the open prairie could not pass them with- 
out being noticed, and so decided to overtake 
them by dark, and camp with or near them. 
Bourbonais, finding his secret discovered, ex- 
tended his usual hospitality to Vasseur and 
party, and after they had finished their sup- 
pers, offered them a dram, which was gladly 
accepted. Vasseur and he chatted and drank, 
until by daylight the old man was dead drunk. 
Vasseur had gained a knowledge of their desti- 

139 



€l^e 9lut0bxDgrapf)p of 



nation, and with his companions started for 
the Indian camps, knowing full well that Bour- 
bonais could not get sobered up and catch his 
horses on the range in time to overtake them. 
By hard marching Vasseur found the camp, 
collected some of the debts, and bought all 
the surplus furs and peltries by the time Bour- 
bonais reached the camp. The old man was 
much mortified and angered when he discovered 
how he had been outwitted, but soon got 
over it, and together he and Vasseur, visited 
the other band, collected their credits, and 
returned home. In this manner the winter 
was passed. 

On Mr. Deschamps' return he bought Bour- 
bonais' furs, engaged him in the service of the 
American Fur Companv, and he was afterwards 
stationed at Kankakee, where he died. Mr. 
Deschamps was well satisfied with the result 
of my winter's trade, it being much better than 
he had anticipated. The season had been an 
unusually good one, and we had accumulated 
more furs and peltries than our boats could 
carry up the Desplaines River, and I was accord- 
ingly despatched with four boat loads to Chi- y 
cago; these I stored with Mr. John Crafts, 
and returned to the "brigade,'* when we all 
moved forward on our annual return to Macki- 
naw. A portion of our furs were shipped 
from Cl^cago, for the first time, in a small 
schooner which had brought supplies for the 
garrison. 

140 



4Surtiott ^afton^tafl I^uBBatti 



PA-PA-MA-TA-BE.— FROM ST. JOSEPH TO 
THE KANKAKEE.— "HUBBARD'S TRAIL." 
—UNDER THE ICE.— PEORIA AND ST. 
LOUIS. 

In the month of March (1823), I had occa- 
sion to go alone to see some Indians who were 
camped at "Big Woods," on Fox River, in 
Du Page County, west of Chicago. 

After I had transacted my business with 
them, and the evening before my return home, 
an Indian who belonged to another band,- 
which was camped about ten miles distant, 
came into the wigwam where I was, and said 
he was going to my trading house. I gave 
him some supper, and told him I should start 
in the morning and that he could accompany 
me, to which he assented. We started in the 
morning as early as we could see to travel, and 
found the ground soft and muddy, and the 
walking hard and tedious, but I noticed that 
my companion walked very fast. 

About noon he stopped to smoke, but hav- 
ing made up my mind that he wanted to race, 
I kept on as fast as possible and got a long 
distance ahead of him. 

When I reached the Illinois River above 
Hennepin," and opposite my trading house, I 
discovered that the canoe which I had left there 
had been stolen. The bottom lands were over- 
flowed from the river to the bluffs. I finally 
got upon a log, and by pulling on the bushes 
141 



€1)0 ^uto6tograpf)p of 



and pushing with a stick, managed to propel 
it to the bank of the river. 

I shouted to my men, and waited a long 
time for them to answer, but receiving no 
response, I jumped in and swam across, reach- 
ing my house about dark. 

The following morning I sent my men back 
across the river to look for the Indian; they 
found him with a party of others on horseback, 
very much chagrined and disappointed at his 
defeat. I then learned that the band which 
I had visited had made a wager with the band 
to which my companion of the day before 
belonged that 1 could outwalk any one they 
could produce, and they had planned the race 
without intending that I should know of it. 

The distance walked that day is seventy-five 
miles, in a direct line, according to the pres- 
ent survey. I suffered no inconvenience 
from it, though the Indian was very lame for a 
day or so. 

Some have doubted that I could have walked 
so great a distance, but I was then young and 
in my prime, and had long had the reputation 
among the Indians of being a very rapid 
traveler, and had, in consequence, been named 
by them Pa-pa-ma-ta-be, "The Swift Walker." 

It was a well-known fact, at that time, that 
Pierre Le Claire, who carried the news of 
the war of i8i2, was sent by Major Robert 
Forsythe to his uncle, Mr. John Kinzie, at 
Chicago, and that he walked from the mouth 
142 



of St. Joseph River around Lake Michigan to 
Chicago, a distance of ninety miles, in one 
continuous walk. 

He arrived at Mr. Kinzie's, ate his supper, 
and crossed over the river to report to the 
officers of Fort Dearborn, before nine o'clock 
at night, having started before daylight froir 
St. Joseph River. 



We made our usual stay in Chicago, I 
among my good friends, and without incident 
worthy of note, arrived in due season at 
Mackinaw. I was placed in entire charge of 
the receiving of furs, assorting and packing 
them for shipment. It was a full two months' 
work, of hard, fatiguing duty. All the furred 
skins, except muskrats and wolves, had each 
to pass my inspection, and when examined, 
all the finer, fancy furs, were to be assorted as 
to shades of color, as well as to fineness of fur. 
I was furnished with assistants who, after I had 
assorted the furs, counted and delivered them 
to the packers to press, tie, mark, and store, 
ready for shipment, one hundred z^^jl/^^^^^rj- being 
detailed for this duty. The roll was called regu- 
larly at six o'clock in the morning, and with the 
exception of one hour's intermission at noon, 
our labors were incessant until six at night. 

After the day's labor was ended, I was 

required to make up an account showing the 

total of that day's work. The statement for 

each outfit was kept separate on my packing- 

143 



€fte ^uto6i05rapl)p of 



house book, from which it was drawn off by 
myself or one of my assistants, and filed with 
the book-keeper in the general office. 

Complaints were frequently made that I 
assorted too closely, and not unfrequently Mr. 
Stewart would himself re-assort, with the 
manager of the *' brigade," who was interested 
in making his returns appear as large as 
possible, but usually my assorting was ap- 
proved. I made it an invariable rule never to 
open and re-assort a pack. 

The different outfits were required to fur- 
nish me a list of their packs, their contents, and 
number of skins unassorted. One of my 
assistants opened each pack and counted the 
skins, and if found to be short it was his duty 
to notify the chief of the ''outfit" or his rep- 
resentative, who was usually present, in order 
that his count might be corrected, and my 
returns when made agree with his, and errors 
and dissatisfaction be thus prevented. 

I was glad to reach the close of this summer's 
duties. It was very fatiguing work to stoop 
over and assort from morning until night. I 
had no time for rest or recreation until the 
last skin was in pack ready for shipment. 

The packs were very neatly put up in frames, 
nearly square in form, and intended to weigh 
about one hundred pounds each. It required 
much practice before the men selected for that 
purpose became experts. The skins must be 
placed in proper positions, evenly distributed, 
144 



so as to make the pack press equally, the ends 
built up straight, so as to show no depressions 
or elongations, and a failure in either of these 
particulars necessitated repacking. 

The different kinds of skins were packed in 
different ways, each kind having its own pecu- 
liar manner of folding, while all packs were 
required to be of the same size; and when 
taken from the press, they resembled huge 
reams of paper, so even and uniform were the 
ends and sides. We used screw presses, 
worked by hand, and if a pack came from the 
press without filHng all the requirements, it 
was repacked and repressed. Each pack was 
then numbered, and an invoice of its contents 
made, which received the same number. 

Adjoining the warehouse was a large yard, 
into which the packs were received when 
brought from the Indian country and in which 
they were opened. Each skin was thoroughly 
beaten to rid it of bugs and dust, and if damp 
it was dried, and then carried into the ware- 
house for assorting, counting, and packing. 
About the middle of August my work was 
completed, and I was at liberty to use my time 
as I chose. I employed it in visiting my 
friends, and thus improved it to the last mo- 
ment. Again we were ready to depart on our 
monotonous lake voyage, coasting as usual 
the east shore of Lake Michigan, and meeting 
with no incident worthy of mention until we 
reached St. Joseph, where we were detained 
145 



€I)e autD6ioffrapl)p of 



for several days by head winds. My destina- 
tion had been decided by Mr. Deschamps to 
Jr y be the Iroquois country. We knew that it 
was but a short distance from a bend of the 
St. Joseph River to the Kankakee River, and 
I determined to endeavor to pass my boats and 
goods overland to the Kankakee, and thus 
save the remainder of the journey to Chicago, 
as well as the delays and hardships of the old 
route through Mud Lake and the Desplaines. 

From Mr. Burnett, who lived a little more 
than a mile from where we were then camped, 
I learned that the Indians near Bartrand trad- 
ing house had ponies on which my goods could 
be packed, and he thought the Indians would 
also undertake to pass my boats across, sug- 
gesting that by hitching the tails of the ponies 
to the boats they could be made to help con- 
siderably. 

Having concluded a favorable arrangement 
with the Indians, I undertook the venture, 
telling Mr. Deschamps that if I failed, I would 
return and overtake him at Chicago. 

I selected my men, among them being Noel 
Vasseur, in whom I had the utmost confidence, 
wrote a letter to my good friends, the Kinzies, 
telling them of the change in my plans, and 
that I would visit them after I got settled in 
my winter quarters. I sent also to Mr. Kinzie 
my best clothes for safe keeping. 

Everything being in readiness, I started 
early on the following morning, and soon passed 
146 



oBurtion <^aIton^taIl i^uBfiarti 

an old Jesuit mission, afterwards occupied by 
Mr. Coy. We halted a short time at Bar- 
trand's, and from him I received full informa- 
tion about the Kankakee River, and he tendered 
me every assistance in his power in making the 
crossing. Proceeding to the place of leaving 
the St. Joseph I met the Indians with their 
ponies, and following the suggestion of Mr. 
Burnett, cut poles and lashed them across the 
boats, which had been unloaded, at the bow 
and stern. We then wove and tied the ponies' 
tails securely to the poles at the stern, and 
tied their heads to the ones at the bow. In 
order that the boats might move more easily, 
we placed rollers under them, and then the 
Indians and squaws commenced urging the 
ponies forward. For some time they were 
awkward and stubborn, some would pull, while 
others would not, but by patience and perse- 
verance, the men also puUing, we finally got 
them started and advanced for a hundred or 
more yards, when the ponies came to a dead 
stand. We again applied the rollers and the 
muscles of the men, and succeeded in making 
another start, and the ponies becoming accus- 
tomed to the work, soon got so they would 
make a quarter of a mile at a stretch, and in 
this manner we passed our boats over and 
launched them into the Kankakee. Repack- 
ing our goods and loading them into the boats, 
we were soon ready to embark. We found 
the Kankakee narrow and crooked, with suffi- 
147 



^t 3tuto6io5rapl)p of 



cient water to float our boats, but with very- 
little current. 

Our progress under oars was at the rate of 
fifty or sixty miles a day, and we met with no 
obstacles until we reached the upper rapids 
or shoals, where the village of Momence is 
now located. 

From that point, shallow water continued 
at intervals until we reached the mouth of the 
Iroquois River, which river we ascended to a 
trading house, located a short distance below 
the present village of Watseka, which was our 
destination. 

The Messrs. Ewing, then of Fort Wayne, 
had a trading house further up the river, and 
opposite the present village of Iroquois. This 
house was in charge of one Chabare, and it 
was for the purpose of opposing him that I 
had been detailed. Our house was soon put 
in a habitable condition, and my first leaving 
it was for the purpose of visiting Mr. Chabare, 
with whom, during the entire winter, I con- 
tinued on friendly relations. 

Having made friends with the Indians, to 
whom I gave liberal credits, and having noted 
where they severally intended making their 
hunting camps, I slipped away for a week's 
visit to Chicago, principally to see my good 
friends the Kinzies, having as usual a very- 
agreeable visit, and promising to return at 
Christmas time, which, however, I was pre- 
vented from doing. 

148 



<Durtion J>afton^tan i^utifiarti 

In the spring I I^ad but a handful of goods 
left, and the result of my winter's business 
was quite satisfactory to both Mr. Deschamps 
and the managers of the Company at Mackinaw. 

Before Mr. Deschamps' arrival I abandoned 
my post and went to Chicago, there to await 
him and the brigade. It was about a month 
before they came, at which delay I was well 
pleased, as I passed my time with the family 
of Mr. Kinzie, who, with Dr. Wolcott and the 
officers of the fort, made my visit very 
pleasant. I much regretted leaving, and re- 
luctantly parted from my friends, uncertain 
whether I should ever see them again, as my 
term of service was about expiring. 

I had not settled in my mind what was my 
duty and interest. My inclination led me to 
my mother, who was struggling to support her 
four young daughters. My young brother 
Christopher had obtained a position in the 
hardware store of Henry King, in New York, 
but was receiving only his board for his ser- 
vices. 

In my uncertainty what course to pursue I 
resorted, as was my custom, to Mr. Kinzie for 
advice, and also consulted the Indian agent, 
Dr. Wolcott, who was from Middletown, 
Conn. , and knew my mother well. It was now 
five years since I parted from my loving Chris- 
tian mother and my sisters and brother, and 
I was just reaching my majority, with no 
knowledge of the world outside of the wilder- 

149 



€|)c 9luto6tO0rapl)p of 



ness, and with no business experience, except- 
ing in the fur trade. For the past five years 
I had had no opportunity to improve my mind 
by intercourse with refined society excepting 
during the short time I had passed in Chicago 
and Mackinaw, and while at the latter place, 
more than one-half of my time was devoted to 
hard labor. In my boyhood days I had no 
love for books or study and now that I felt the 
need of improving my mind, I could find no 
opportunity to do so. For the past year I 
had felt more than ever the waste of my Hfe 
and the mortification my ignorance caused me. 
Messrs. Kinzie and Wolcott strongly advised 
me to remain in the only business for which I 
was fitted, and to forego the pleasure of seeing 
my motlier and sisters. They advised me to 
remit my earnings and remain in the Indian 
trade under some favorable arrangement with 
the American Fur Company; or, if not with 
them, with Mr. Chouteau of St.L(5uis, who was 
ready to give me employment at a good salary. 
To abandon a business that had cost me five 
years to learn, under so many privations and 
exposures, for some other uncertain vocation, 
to fit me for which would consume valuable 
time, seemed to them very inadvisable. 
"Demand," they said, "of the Fur Company 
a fair consideration for your abilities, and if 
they refuse/ to give it, then you have Mr. 
Chouteau to fall back upon; and if both fail, 
you are well-enough known to get credit for 
150 



oBurtion ^alton^tall i^u66atti 

an outfit and take chances on your own 
account." 

I knew these gentlemen were among my 
best friends, were disinterested in their advice, 
and knew better than I did the estimation in 
which Messrs. Ramsay^and Crooks held me. 
Our coasting voyage gave me ample time to 
ponder over my situation and determine the 
course to pursue. I had a great desire to go 
home, if only for a short visit. I had less than 
one hundred dollars due me, had no respect- 
able clothing; my best coat was the same one 
provided for me when I left Montreal. It 
was not threadbare, and would have looked 
quite well on me, had the fashion been for but- 
tons half way up the back and sleeves short 
and tight. Five years before, it looked on me 
as though it was my father's; now it looked 
like a half-grown boy's. To have fitted 
myself out in a manner to be presentable to 
the society of Middletown would have cost all 
my accumulated funds. I was forced after 
due consideration to forego the pleasure of 
seeing those dear to me, and before reaching 
Mackinaw I had concluded to remain west — 
where to be decided when I saw Mr. Crooks. 
I felt certain of a ^ood position in the employ 
of the Chouteausa! St. Louis in case Mr. 
Crooks' terms were not satisfactory. When I 
reached Mackinaw I was a free man with more 
than ninety dollars to my credit on the books 
of the company. 

151 



€I)e autofiiograpljp of 



Mr. Crooks desired me to again take charge 
of packing the furs, which I consented to do 
without any stipulation as to price, but on the 
condition that I should be at liberty to quit at 
any time by giving a few days' notice; this 
enabled me to send eighty dollars of my earn- 
ings to my mother. As I was at work earning 
wages I did not hesitate to get from the retail 
store, then in charge of John H. Kinzie, such 
goods and clothing as I desired. 

In about a month a schooner arrived from 
Cleveland loaded with corn, tallow, and other 
provisions for the use of the Company. She 
was to take to Buffalo"" a cargo of furs, which 
were ready packed for shipment. 

I had been negotiating for a re-engagement, 
but had declined the offer made by the man- 
agers and had demanded a larger salary, 
which had been refused. The morning after 
the arrival of the schooner I surprised Mr. 
Stewart by asking him to fill my place, as I 
had decided to take passage on the schooner 
for Buffalo, and requested him to fix my allow- 
ance, that I might settle my account at the 
store. I hoped that I should have enough 
left to tak^ me east, and added that perhaps 
Mr. Astor would give me employment in the 
fur store in New York. 

Mr. Stewart seemed much surprised, and 

said that he thought it was settled that I should 

remain in the employ of the Company. I 

replied, "No, sir; I consider my services worth 

152 



more than you and Mr. Crooks offer me; 
hence I intend to leave you." Before the 
departure of the schooner, however, they 
accepted my offer, and I engaged with the 
Company for another year. I shipped a por- 
tion of my goods to Chicago by a vessel bound 
there, and thus reduced the number of boats 
in the brigade to five, 

1824.— PLACED IN CHARGE OF THE ILLI- 
NOIS RIVER TRADING POSTS. 

Mr. Deschamps, having become old and 
worn by long continued service and the hard- 
ships to which he had been exposed, resigned 
his position as( Superintendent of the Illinois 
River Trading Posts of the American Fur 
Company, )and on his recommendation I was 
appointed to succeed him. I now determined 
to carry out a project which I had long urged 
upon Mr. Deschamps, but without success — 
that of unloading the boats upon their arrival 
at Chicago from Mackinaw, and scuttling them 
in the slough, to prevent their loss by prairie 
fires, until they were needed to reload with 
furs for the return voyage. 

The goods and furs I proposed to transport 
to and from the Indian hunting grounds on 
pack horses. In this manner the long, tedious, 
and difficult passage through Mud Lake, into 
and down the Desplaines River, would be 
avoided, and the goods taken directly to the 
153 



€f)c aiutobioffrapfjp of 



Indians at their hunting grounds, instead of 
having to be carried in packs on the backs of 
the men. During the year 1822, I had estab- 
lished a direct path or track from Iroquois 
post to Danville, and I now extended it south 
from Danville and north to Chicago, thus 
fully opening ''Hubbard's Trail" from Chi- 
cago to a point about one hundred and fifty 
miles south of Danville. Along this "trail" I 
established trading posts forty to fifty miles 
apart. This "trail" became the regularly 
traveled route between Chicago and Danville 
and points beyond, and was designated on the 
old maps as "Hubbard's Trail."* 

In the winter of 1833-34 the General Assem- 
bly ordered that a State road be located from 
Vincennes to Chicago, and that mile-stones be 
placed thereon, and from Danville to Chicago 
the Commissioners adopted my "trail" most 
of the way, because it was the most direct 
route and on the most favorable ground. 
Through constant use by horses, ponies, and 

* Note.— "Hubbard's Trail" ran through Cook, 
Will, Kankakee, Iroquois, and Vermilion Counties, 
passing the present towns of Blue Island, Home- 
wood, Bloom, Crete, Grant, Momence, Beaverville, 
Iroquois, Hoopeston, and Myersville to Danville, 
and southwest through Vermilion and Champaign 
Counties to Bement in Piatt County; thence south 
through Moultrie and Shelby Counties to Blue Point 
in Effingham County. At Crete, a fence has been 
built around a portion of this *' trail," to further pre- 
serve it as an old landmark and a relic of early roads 
and early times. 

154 . 



— - _ 

men, the path became worn so deeply into the 
ground that when I last visited the vicinity of 
my old Iroquois post (now called Bunkum), in 
the fall of 1880, traces of it were still visible, 
and my grand nephew, a little lad of fourteen 
years, who accompanied me on the trip, jumped 
out of the carriage and ran some distance in 
the trail where I had walked fifty-eight years 
before. 

1825. 

The winter of 1825 I passed at my Iroquois 
post. The hunting had been unusually good, 
and large quantities of goods were sold and 
many fine furs collected. 

In the spring, Mr. John Kinzie got out of 
goods at Chicago, and sent a Mr. Hall to me 
to request me to go to St. Louis by boat for 
a supply. Mr. Hall was to remain and man- 
age my business during my absence. Neither 
Mr. Kinzie nor myself had a boat suitable for 
the journey, but. he thought I could arrange 
for one. Mr. Hamlin, of Peoria, had a boat 
which was well adapted to the pi^pose, and I 
decided to send Vasseur and Portier to Peoria to 
engage the boat and prepare it for the journey, 
while I should go to Chicago, see Mr. Kinzie, 
and learn from him what goods were required. 

The water was very high, and all the rivers 
and streams had overflowed their banks. Por- 
tier could not swim, and both men were afraid 
and refused to go. I assured them they would 
155 



€f)e autoBiD5rapl)p of 



not need to swim, as they could head all the 
streams on the route; while, on the way to 
Chicago, I should be compelled to cross the 
streams, and probably to swim them. I fur- 
ther told them that if they refused to go, I 
should dock^'their wages and discharge them. 
In the morning, having thought the matter 
over and becoming ashamed of their refusal, 
they announced themselves as ready to start, 
and did so as soon as they had eaten their 
breakfasts. This was the first and only time 
they ever refused to obey my orders. 

I thought I could go on horseback to the 
mouth of the Iroquois and there swim the 
Kankakee, and as two Indians were bound for 
that point, I decided to accompany them. It 
had frozen during the night, and the morning 
was very cold. We progressed very pleasantly 
until we reached a small stream on the prairie 
which had overflowed its banks, and upon 
which a new covering of ice had formed during 
the night, leaving running water between the 
two coverings of ice. The upper ice was not 
strong enough for a man to walk on, but the 
Indians laid down and slid themselves across 
with little difficulty. I rode my horse to the 
stream, and reaching forward with my toma- 
hawk broke the ice ahead of him, he walking 
on the under ice until he reached the middle of 
the stream, when his hind feet broke through, 
the girth gave away, and the saddle slipped off" 
behind carrying me with it. I fell into the water 
156 



and was carried by the current rapidly down the 
stream between the upper and lower coverings 
of ice. I made two attempts to gain my feet, 
but the current was so swift and the space^b 
narrow I could not break through the ice.v 

I had about given up all hope, when my hand 
struck a willow bush near the bank and thus 
arrested my rapid progress. At the same 
time I stood up and bumping the ice with my 
head broke through. The Indians were much 
astonished to see me come up through the ice, 
and gave utterance to their surprise by a pecu- 
liar exclamation. I recovered n^ horse and 
saddle and returned to my trading house, with 
no worse result than wet clothing and a slightly 
bruised head. 

I had just completed a small blackwalnut 
canoe, and with this, and my man Jombeau to 
assist me, I went to the dividing ridge, near 
where the city of Kankakee now stands. The 
canoe was small and would barely hold us both, 
but we paddled safely down the Iroquois, and 
the following day arrived at Kankakee; there 
we left the canoe and started for Chicago on 
foot. It was a warm, thawing day, and I 
could scarcely see on account of the mist. I 
had walked a long time and thought I was on 
my **trair' and near Blue Island, when I heard 
a gun, and soon after found an Indian, who 
had shot a muskrat. This I got from him, and 
it was all Jombeau and I had to eat that day 
and the following one. 

157 



€l)e 3tutoBto0rapJ)p of 



The Indian asked where I was going, and 
when I told him to Chicago, he surprised us 
by saying that we were going the wrong way. 
We had become completely turned around, 
and were then only about two miles from 
'^Yellow Head Point." We camped that 
night on the bank of a creek, near where Miller's 
stock-farm is now located. On the third day 
I reached Chicago, reported to Mr. Kinzie, 
and found that he had started two men in a 
canoe to meet me at Peoria with a list of the 
goods required. 

The day following I started in another canoe 
with an old Frenchman for Peoria, and we got 
along without trouble until we reached Peoria 
Lake. The wind being fair, I made a small 
mast and hoisted a blanket for a sail; but the 
wind being quite strong, the canoe suddenly 
upset when about a half-mile from shore. My 
companion was terribly frightened, but I made 
him cling to the boat, and soon got him safely 
to land. We were three days in making the 
trip to Peoria. My men had arrived, and the 
boat was all prepared for the trip to St. Louis. 
They had become much alarmed about me, 
thinking I was drowned, and were greatly 
rejoiced at my arrival. The next day we 
started for St. Louis, where we arrived in due 
season and without incident worthy of notice. 
I bought my goods, delivered them at Chicago, 
and returned as quickly as possible to my post 
at Iroquois. 

158 



oSurtion J>afton^tall i^utifiatti 

We were in a state of semi-starvation this 
spring, being compelled to live almost entirely 
on corn. My men were busy splitting rails to 
fence in a patch of ground for a garden, in 
which I hoped to raise vegetables for the follow- 
ing winter's consumption. Meat was much 
desired, but hard to procure. 

I had a large domestic cat that enjoyed the 
freedom of the house and store, and upon pack- 
ing my winter's collection of furs for transpor- 
tation to Chicago, I discovered that the cat had 
gnawed the ends of some of them, where meat 
had been left in skinning. I was very much 
vexed at the dis'bovery. Looking up I saw the 
cat sitting in the store window, and taking my 
rifle, shot him. He fell inside, and crawled 
behind a bale of cloth, where he remained until I 
removed the goods, when I found and killed 
him. I took him out and gave him to the 
Indian cook, telling him that the skin would 
make him a nice tobacco pouch. Just before 
dinner time I went out again and asked the 
cook what he had done with the cat. He 
answered me by pointing to the kettle in which 
the corn soup was cooking for the men's din- 
ner. I laughed, but said nothing. 

When the men came in and smelled the 
savory stew they were greatly pleased at the 
thought of having meat for dinner. They 
were always in the habit of selecting the 
choicest bits of meat and sending them to me, 
and they did not forget me on this occasion; 
159 



€f^t auto6iogtap{)p of 



but I declined to eat, telling them I did not 
care for it, and that they could eat all of it. 
They ate it with great relish, and after they 
had finished their dinner, I asked them if they 
knew what they had eaten. They said "yes, 
wildcat," and were greatly astonished when I 
told them they had devoured our old tom cat. 
One of them said it made no difference, it was 
good; the other thought differently, and tried 
hard to rid himself of what he had eaten by 
thrusting his finger down his throat, but with- 
out success; the old cat would not come up. 

TROUBLE WITH YELLOW HEAD. — DAN- 
VILLE. — " WINNEBAGO SCARE.'* — IN 
THE OHIO RIVER. — KA-NE-KUCK. 

I had now been in the employ of the Ameri- 
can Fur Company for more than seven years, 
and for the two years after the expiration of 
my original five years' contract, I had received 
the very liberal salary of thirteen hundred dol- 
lars per year. Being, however, dissatisfied 
with that amount, I had determined to leave 
its employ, when the Company offered me an 
interest as a special partner, which offer I 
gladly accepted. My labors were no lighter; 
in fact, the responsibility seemed greater, and 
I worked harder than ever, realizing that on 
my own efforts and success depended the 
amount of compensation I should receive. 
My headquarters for the winter were at 
i6o 



Iroquois post, though I made frequent excur- 
sions to other points, and was very often in 
Chicago. 

One cold day in March, 1827, I went to 
Beaver Creek Lake for a hunt. This was a 
part of the great Kankakee marsh, and geese, 
ducks, and swan were very abundant. The 
fall previous I had hidden a canoe in the 
vicinity of the lake and about thirteen miles 
from my trading house, and this I found with 
little difficulty. I hunted until nearly dark, 
when, thinking it too late to return home, I 
camped for the night on a small island in the 
lake. There were no trees, but I made a fire 
with driftwood, and having cooked some game 
for my supper, lay down and soon fell asleep. 
Some time in the night I awoke in great pain, 
and foun(^ that my fire had nearly gone out. 
I managed to replenish it, but the pain con- 
tinued, being most severe in my legs, and by 
morning it increased to such an extent that I 
could not reach my canoe. About ten o'clock 
an Indian came down the lake and I called him 
and told him of my condition, and with his 
assistance reached the canoe, and finally the 
main shore. I sent the Indian to Iroquois 
with orders for my men to come an^ bring 
with them a horse and harness. On their 
arrival I had the horse hitched to the canoe 
and myself placed therein, and started in this 
manner to ride home. I soon found that I 
could not stand the jarring of the canoe as it 
161 



€I)e 3luto6iDgrapl)p of 



was drawn over the rough ground, and halted 
until some better means of travel could be 
devised. I sent back to Iroquois for two more 
men, which necessitated my camping for 
another night . On their arrival they construct- 
ed, with poles and blankets, a litter upon 
which they bore me safely and quite com- 
fortably home. 

I had a severe attack of inflammatory rheu- 
matism, which confined me to the house for 
three or four weeks, and from which I did 
not fully recover for eighteen months. I doc- 
tored myself with poultices of elm and decoc- 
tions of various herbs. 

About six weeks after my attack of rheuma- 
tism I prepared to abandon my trading house 
on the Iroquois* and remove to Chicago, but 
was compelled to wait for a band of Indians 
who owed me for goods and who had not yet 
returned from their winter hunting grounds. 
While thus delayed two white men appeared 
with a pair of horses and a wagon loaded with 
corn, cornmeal, and whisky. Hearing that I 
was waiting for the Indians, they decided to 
wait also and trade them whisky for furs, 
blankets, or anything else of value which the 
Indians might possess. I was unable to walk 
without crutches, and scarcely able to leave 
my bunk. I knew that if the Indians were 
allowed to have the whisky, trouble would 
ensue, so I sent Noel Vasseur to their camp 
to ask one of the men to come and see me. 
162 



<©urtion ^alton^tali i^u66arti 



He soon came, and I told him I did not like 
to have him sell whisky to the Indians, and 
that he had no right to do so, as he had no 
license from the Government to trade with 
Indians. He replied that he had as much 
right to trade as I had, and that he should do 
as he pleased. I warned him that the Indians 
would become drunk, and would then rob, 
and probably murder them, but he refused to 
listen to me, and returned to his camp. 

I immediately stationed men to watch for 
the coming of the Indians, and was soon 
informed that Yellow Headend his band were 
at hand. When they arrived, I had a large 
kettle of corn soup and other food ready for 
them, and as soon as they had eaten, I took 
them into my council room, traded for their 
furs, collected what they owed me, and after 
giving each one a gill of whisky, dismissed 
them before the strangers had learned of their 
arrival. The Indians soon discovered the 
camp of the two men and commenced trading 
their blankets and the goods they had just 
bought from me for whisky. I sent word to 
the men to leave, and told them that as soon 
as the Indians got drunk they would rob them 
of all they had sold them, but they would not 
heed the message. 

As I had anticipated, the Indians soon 

became drunk, and angry because they had 

nothing more to trade and could get no more 

to drink, and began to take back their blankets 

163 



€1)0 auto6iograpI)p of 



A 



and goods. The white men became very 
much frightened, and came to me for assist- 
ance. I refused to interfere, but sent Vasseur 
and Jacques Jombeau to empty the remaining 
kegs of whisky, which they did. The Indians 
scooped up the whisky with their hands, and 
became more and more enraged, and finally 
assaulted Jombeau, and stabbed him in the 
back, though not severely. The Indians got 
back all they had sold, and the white men made 
their escape with the horses and wagon. The 
disturbance lasted all night. 

The Indians came to my house and demand- 
ed more whisky, and were, of course, refused, 
hey all laid down and fell asleep, except Yel- 
low Head (a brother-in-law of Billy Caldwell) j 
who came several times to me, coaxing and 
threatening me, but to no purpose. He finally 
said he would go to my store, break in and 
take as much as he wanted. I said, ''Very 
well, go on," and he started for the store- 
house. I got up from my bunk, took my rifle 
and thrust it through the paper which served 
for window glass, and as he reached the store, 
I ''drew a bead on him," and called to him to 
go on and break in. He changed his mind 
and walked away. 

I again laid down, and in a few minutes he 
returned very angry, and walking up to my 
bunk drew a knife and attempted to stab me ; 
but I was too quick for him, seized his arm, 
and lame as I was, jumped up, took the knife 
164 



oBurtion J^alton^taH i^u66arti 

away, and pushed him out of the door, where I 
found some squaws who had been attracted 
by the disturbance. Outside the door was a 
large mortar with a heavy iron-wood pestle, 
which I used for pounding corn. I gave the 
knife to a squaw, and leaned on one crutch 
/against the mortar with my hand on the pestle. 
Yellow Head felt in his leggins for another 
knife, when I said to the squaw, *'Give the 
old woman a knife." She did so, but Yellow 
Head, looking at the pestle upon which my 
hand rested, and doubtless remembering the 
sudden manner in which I had before dis- 
armed him, deemed "discretion the better 
part of valor,*' and silently departed with the 
squaws. 

The day following I started for Chicago, 
leaving one of my men, Dominick Bray by 
name, in charge of the place, and to make a 
garden and plant vegetables for the following 
winter's use. Two or three days after my 
arrival in Chicago, Bray appeared with the 
story that Yellow Head had returned for re- 
venge. Bray was lying in his bunk, when 
Yellow Head and two other Indians entered 
the house and leveled their rifles at him. He 
jumped up and ran by them out of the door, 
pulling it shut just as they fired, and the bullets 
struck the door through which he had escaped. 
Bray ran into the woods, caught a horse, and 
left for Chicago. The Indians pillaged the 
house and store, taking everything that had 
165 



€I)e ^utoBiograpl^p of 



been left. Other Indians warned me that 
Yellow Head intended to kill me should he 
ever meet me again, but before my return to 
the Iroquois, he was killed in a drunken fight, 
and thus I was saved from further trouble 
with him. J 

I had already located at Danville, where I 
intended in the future to make my general 
headquarters, and a portion of the spring and 
summer of this year was spent at that place. 
Danville had become quite a settlement, and I 
had a number of pleasant acquaintances there. 
Mr. Kinzie having resigned his position as 
Indian trader at Chicago, I made application 
for the place, which, however, I did not receive. 

I made my annual trip to Mackinaw, arriving 
there in the month of August, and before my 
return made a new arrangement with the Fur 
Company, by which I bought out its entire in- 
terests in Illinois, Business was very poor 
during the year 182^, and in the spring of 1 82 8 
I built a store at Danville, and permanently 
established my headquarters there. 



WINNEBAGO SCARE.* 

At the breaking out of the Winnebago war, 
early in July, 1827, Fort Dearborn was without 
military occupation. 

Doctor Alexander Wolcott, Indian agent, 

♦From statements by Mr. Hubbard in Chicago 
Historical Series, No. 10. 
166 



had charge of the fort, Hving in the brick 
building, just within tlie north stockade, pre- 
viously occupied by the commanding officers. 
The old officers* quarters, built of logs, on the 
west, and within the pickets, were occupied by 
Russell E. Heacock and one other American 
family, while a number of voyageurs with their 
families were living in the soldiers' quarters on 
the east side of the inclosure. v — 

The annual payment of the Pottawatomie 
Indians occurred in September of the year 1 82 8 . 
A large body of them had assembled, according 
to custom, to receive their annuity. These 
left after the payment for their respective 
villages, except a portion of Big Foot's band.. 

The night following the payment, there was 
a dance in the soldiers' barracks, during the 
progress of which a violent storm of wind and 
rain arose; and about midnight these quarters 
were struck by lightning and totally consumed, 
together with the storehouse and a portion of 
the guard-house. 

The sleeping inmates of Mr. Kinzie's house, 
on the opposite bank of the river, were aroused 
by the cry of ''fire,'' from Mrs. Helm, one 
of their number, who, from her window, had 
seen the flames. On hearing the alarm I, with 
Robert Kinzie, hastily arose, and, only partially 
dressed, ran to the river. To our dismay, we 
found the canoe, which was used for crossing 
the river, filled with water; it had been par- 
tially drawn up on the beach and became filled 
167 



€f)e 3lut06io0ta}>f)p of 



by the dashing of the waves. Not being able 
to turn it over, and having nothing with which 
to bail it out, we lost no time, but swam the 
stream. Entering by the north gate we saw 
at a glance the situation. The barracks and 
storehouse being wrapped in flames, we direct- 
ed our energies to the saving of the guard- 
house, the east end of which was on fire. Mr. 
Kinzie, rolling himself in a wet blanket, got 
upon the roof. The men and women, about 
forty in number, formed a line to the river, 
and with buckets, tubs, and every available 
utensil, passed the water to him; this was kept 
up till daylight before the flames were sub- 
dued, Mr. Kinzie maintaining his dangerous 
position with great fortitude, though his hands, 
face, and portions o^ his body were severely 
burned. His father, mother, and sister, Mrs. 
Helm, had meanwhile freed the canoe from 
water, and crossing in it, fell into line with those 
carrying water. J 

Some of the Big Foot band of Indians were 
present at the fire, but merely as spectators, 
and could not be prevailed upon to assist; they 
all left the next day for their homes. The 
strangeness of their behavior was the subject 
of discussion among us. 

Six or eight days after this event, while at 
breakfast in Mr. Kinzie's house, we heard 
singing, faintly at first, but gradually growing 
louder as the singers approached. Mr. Kinzie 
recognized the leading voice as that of Bob 
i68 



oBurtion ^alton^tall i^ufiBarti 

y 

Forsyth, and left the table for the piazza of the 
house, where we all followed. About where 
Wells street now crosses the river, in plain sight 
from where we stood, was a light birch-bark 
canoe, manned with thirteen men, rapidly 
approaching, the men keeping tin>e with their 
paddles to one of the Canadian boat songs; 
it proved to be Governor Cass and his secre- 
tary, Robert Forsyth, and they landed and 
soon joined us. From them we first learned 
of the breaking out of the Winnebago war, 
and the massacre on the Upper Mississippi. 
Governor Cass was at Green Bay by appoint- 
ment, to hold a treaty with the Winnebagoes 
and Menomonee tribes, who, however, did 
not appear to meet him in council. News 
of hostilities reaching the Governor there, 
he immediately procured a light birch bark 
canoe, purposely made for speed, manned 
it with twelve men at the paddles and a 
steersman, and started up the river, making 
a portage into the Wisconsin, then down it 
and the Mississippi to Jefferson Barracks 
below St. Louis. "^ 

Here he persuaded the commanding officer 
to charter a steamer, and embarking troops on 
it, ascended the Mississippi in search of the 
hostile Lmians, and to give aid to the troops 
at Fort Snelling. On reaching the mouth of 
the Illinois River, the Governor (with his men 
and canoe, having been brought so far on the 
steamer), here left it, and ascending that stream 
169 



€f)c ^utofiiograpljp of 



and the Desplaines, passed through Mud Lake 
into the South Branch of the Chicago River, 
thus reaching Chicago. This trip from Green 
Bay, was performed in about thirteen days, 
the Governor's party sleeping only five to 
seven hours, and averaging sixty to seventy 
miles travel each day. On the Wisconsin 
River they passed Winnebago encampments 
without molestation. They did not stop to 
parley, passing rapidly by, singing their boat 
songs; the Indians were so taken by surprise 
that before they recovered from their astonish- 
ment, the canoe was out of danger. Governo^ 
Cass remained at Chicago but a few hours, 
coasting Lake Michigan back to Green Bay. 
As soon as he left, the inhabitants of Chicago 
assembled for consultation. Bi^ Foot was sus- / 
pected of acting in concert with the Winneba- j 
goes, as he was known to be friendly to them, I 
and many of his band had intermarried with I 
that tribe. ] 

Shaub-e-nee was not here at the payment, 
his money having been drawn for him by his 
friend, Billy Caldwell. The evening before 
Governor Cass' visit, however, he was in Chi- 
cago, and then the guest of Caldwell. At my 
suggestion he and Caldwell were engaged to 
visit Big Foot's village (Geneva Lake), and get 
what information they could of the plans of 
the Winnebagoes, and also learn what action 
Big Foot's band intended taking. They left 
immediately, and on nearing Geneva Lake, 
170 



oBurtiott J^alton^tall i^uBBatti 

arranged that Shaub-e-nee should enter the 
village alone, Caldwell remaining hidden. 

Upon entering the village Shaub-e-nee was 
made a prisoner, and accused of being a friend 
of the Americans, and a spy. He affected 
great indignation at these charges, and said to 
Big Foot: "I was not at the payment, but was 
told by my braves that you desired us to join 
the Winnebagoes and make war on the Ameri- 
cans. I think the Winnebagoes have been 
fooHsh; alone they cannot succeed. So I have 
come to council with you, hear what you have 
to say, when I will return to my people and 
report all you tell me; if they shall then say 
we will join you, I will consent." After talk- 
ing nearly all night they agreed to let him go, 
provided he was accompanied by one of their 
own number; to this proposal Shaub-e-nee 
readily consented, though it placed him in a 
dangerous position. His friend Caldwell was 
waiting for him in the outskirts of the village 
and his presence must not be known, as it 
would endanger both of their lives. Shaub-e- 
nee was equal to the emergency. After leaving 
in company with one of Big Foot's braves, as 
the place of Caldwell's concealment was neared, 
he commenced complaining in a loud voice of 
being suspected and made a prisoner, and when 
quite near, said, '*We must have no one with 
us in going to Chicago. Should we meet any 
one of your band or any one else^ we must 
tell them to go away; we must go by our- 
171 



€fte 3lutD6iD0tapf)p of 



selves, and get to Chicago by noon to-morrow. 
Kinzie will give us something to eat and we 
can go on next day." 

Caldwell heard and understood the meaning 
of this, and started alone by another route. 
Strategy was still to be used, as Shaub-e-nee 
desired to report; so, on nearing Chicago he 
said to his companion, **If Kinzie sees you, he 
will ask why your band did not assist in put- 
ting out the fire. Maybe he has heard news 
of the war and is angry with Big Foot; let us 
camp here, for our horses are very tired. 
This they did, and after a little the Big Foot 
brave suggested that Shaub-e-nee should go to 
the fort for food and information. This was 
what he wanted to do, and he lost no time in 
reporting the result of his expedition, and pro- 
curing food returned to his camp. Starting 
the next morning with his companion for his 

i own village; on reaching it he called a council 
of his Indians, who were addressed by Big 

I Foot's emissary; but they declined to take 

I part with the Winnebagoes, advising Big Foot 

(Jo_remain neutral. 

On receiving Shaub-e-nee 's report, the 
inhabitants of Chicago were greatly excited. 
Fearing an attack, we assembled for consulta- 
tion, when I suggested sending to the Wabash 
for assistance, and tendered my services as 
messenger. This was at first objected to, on 
the ground that a majority of the men at the 
fort were in my employ, and in case of an 
172 



4Burtion ^alton^tall I^uBBarti 

attack, no one could manage them or enforce 
their aid but myself. It was, however, decided 
that I should go, as I knew the route and all 
the settlers. An attack ^ould probably not 
be made until Big Foot's embassador had 
returned with his report; this would give at 
least two weeks' security, and in that time I 
could, if successful, make the trip and return. 
I started between four and five o'clock in the 
afternoon, reaching my trading house on the 
Iroquois River by midnight, where I changed 
my horse and went on; it was a dark, rainy 
night. On reaching Sugar Creek I found the 
stream swollen out of its banks, and my horse 
refusing to cross, I was obliged to wait till 
daylight, when I discovered that a large tree 
had fallen across the trail, making the ford 
impassable. I swam the streaip'and went on, 
reaching my friend Mr. Spencer's house at 
noon, tired out. Mr. Spencer started imme- 
diately to give the alarm, asking for volunteers 
to meet at Danville the next evening, with five 
days' rations. By the day following at the 
hour appointed, one hundred men were organ- 
ized into a company, and appointing a Mr. 
Morgan, an old frontier fighter, as their cap- 
tain, immediately started for Chicago, camping 
that night on the north fork of the Vermilion 
River. It rained continually, the trail was 
very muddy, and we were obliged to swim 
most of the streams and many of the large 
sloughs, but we still pushed on, reaching Fort 
173 



€J)e ^utofiiograplip of 



Dearborn the seventh day after my departure, 
to the great joy of the waiting people. 

We re-organized, and had a force of about 
one hundred and fifty men, Morgan command- 
ing. At the end of thirty days, news came of 
the defeat of the Winnebagoes, and of their 
treaty with the commanding officer, who went 
from Jefferson Barracks,^'as before stated. 
Upon hearing this, Morgan disbanded his com- 
pany, who returned to their homes, leaving 
Fort Dearborn in charge of the Indian agent 
as before. 

Note.— Extract from a letter written by Mr. 
Hubbard to his sister Elizabeth, at Middletown, 
Conn. 

Chicago, July 25, 1827. 

You will undoubtedly hear through the medium of 
the newspapers of the hostilities lately commenced 
by the Winnebago Indians. 

Governor Cass surprised us on the 21st by his 
arrival, and brought us the first intelligejice of the 
depredations committed by that tribe. They com- 
menced their hostilities at Prairie du Chien, by 
killing a family in open day. Afterward, a party 
of one hundred and fifty waylaid a boat descending 
the Mississippi, attacked it with great violence, and 
after a contest of two hours, withdrew. The boat's 
crew defended themselves bravely; their loss was 
two men killed and six wounded. The Indians lost 
fourteen men killed; the number of wounded was 
not ascertained. The Governor was at the Prairie 
when the boat arrived, and counted two hundred 
ball holes through her cargo box. All the forces 
from St. Louis were immediately sent up to the 
Prairie to join those from the St. Peter's. It is 
thought that the forces collected at the Prairie amount 

174 



to seven thousand men, part of whom are now doubt- 
less in the enemy's country. 

The war-club was in circulation here during the 
payment, with such secresy that not one of us knew 
anything of it until the Governor arrived, when he 
was informed by a few friendly India^^. 

The principal Pottawatomie Indians were sent for, 
and a council held on the 22d, when the Governor 
informed them of every particular. They acknowl- 
edged that messages had been sent to them from the 
Winnebagoes, but assured us of their friendship. 
"We do not apprehend the least danger from them, 
and those who live on the Illinois River are bringing 
their families into our settlement for protection. 
The inhabitants of this place are all assembled in the 
fort. We do not think that there is any danger, but 
think it best to be on our guard. 

The Governor left here yesterday for Green Bay. 
He will send a company of troops on here immedi- 
ately to take possession of this fort. We expect 
them in twenty days. I shall not leave here until I 
see my friends out of all danger. You shall hear 
from me again shortly; in the meantime, do not be 
uneasy as to my safety. We have vigilant scouts 
out, and get notice of any party of Indians before 
they could surprise us, although I do not think there 
is the least danger of their making the attempt. 
Our troops will give them enough to attend to in 
their own villages, and the war cannot last more 
than twenty or thirty days before they are all 
destroyed. Again I beg you will not be uneasy; I 
am in perfect safety. 

I cannot close this communication without 
adding my testimony regarding the character 
and services of that noble Indian chief, Shaub- 
e-nee. From my first acquaintance with him, 
which began in the fall of l8i8, to his death, 
I was impressed with the nobleness of his 

175 



€f)e autoBioffrapl)p of 



character. Physically, he was as fine a speci- 
men of a man as I ever saw; tall, well propor- 
tioned, strong, and active, with a face express- 
ing great strength of mind and goodness of 
heart. Had he been favored with the advan- 
tages of education, he might have commanded 
a high position among the men of his day. 
He was remarkable for his integrity, of a 
generous and forgiving nature, always hos- 
pitable, and until his return from the West, a 
strictly temperate man, not only himself 
abstaining from all intoxicating liquors, but 
influencing his people to do the same. He 
was ever a friend to the white settlers, and 
should be held by them and their descendants 
in greatful remembrance. He had an uncom- 
monly retentive memory, and a perfect knowl- 
edge of this Western country. He would 
readily draw on the sand or bed of ashes, quite 
a correct map of the whole district from the 
the lakes west to the Missouri River, giving 
general courses of rivers, designating towns 
and places of notoriety, even though he had 
never seen them. 

It has been reported that Shaub-e-nee said^ 
that Tecumseh was killed by Col. R. M. John-^ 
son. This, I am convinced, is a mistake, for 
I have often conversed with him on that sub- 
ject, and he invariably said that balls were 
striking all around them; by one of them 
Tecumseh was killed and fell by his side; that 
no one could tell who directed the fatal shot, 
176 



4Burtion J>aIton^taU i^uBfiarti 

unless it were the person who fired it; that 
person was claimed to be Johnson. 

It ought to be a matter of regret and morti- 
fication to us all that our Government so 
wronged this man, who so often periled his 
own life to save those of the whites, by with- 
holding from him the title to the land granted 
him under a solemn treaty, the Commissioners, 
representing our Government, having given 
him their pledge that the land allotted him by 
the Pottawatomie Nation should be guaran- 
teed to him by our Government, and he pro- 
tected in its ownership. He never sold his 
right to the land, but by force was driven from 
it. When he returned from the West to take 
possession, he found that our Government, 
disregarding his rights, had sold it. 

[I have no information as to Mr. Hubbard's life 
during the years 1828-29 further than that he was 
engaged in a general business at Danville, and still 
retained his trading post at Iroquois. During these 
years he dealt quite extensively in farm produce, and 
had contracts for furnishing beef and pork to the 
troops stationed at Fort Dearborn. He continued 
his annual visits to Mackinaw, and during his life as 
a fur trader, made twenty-six trips to and from that 
island, coasting Lake Michigan in an open row boat. 
In 1828 he went on horseback and alone to Detroit 
without seeing any indications of a white settlement 
until he reached Ypsilanti, at which place were a few 
log houses. In the winter of 1829 he killed a large 
number of hogs, and not having received the barrels, 
which were to arrive by vessel, he piled the pork up 
on the river bank, near where Rush street now is, 
and kept it in that manner until the arrival of barrels 
177 



€f)e 9luto6iograpftp of 



in the spring. This was the beginning of the packing 
industry in Chicago. During the summer of 1830 he, 
for the first time, returned to the East and visited 
his mother and family at Middletown, Conn. His 
sisters Mary (afterwards Mrs. Dr. Clark) and Abby 
(afterwards- Mrs. A. L. Castleman) returned with 
him to his home in Danville, where they continued 
to reside until they were married. — H. E. H.] 

The winter of 1830-31 was the most severe 
one I ever experienced in the Indian country, 
and was always remembered and spoken of by 
the early settlers as the "winter of the big 
snow. ' * I was employed in gathering together 
hogs to drive to Chicago to kill and sell to the 
settlers and soldiers at Fort Dearborn, a 
business in which I was then regularly engaged. 
I also had a store at Danville stocked with 
goods suitable for trade with the white settlers 
of that section of country. 

On the seventh of November, 1830, I 
started out to gather up my hogs, which were 
in small droves at different points on the road. 
The snow was then about seven inches deep, 
and it continued to fall for four or five days. 
I had men to help me, and wagons containing 
corn for the hogs, in which were also our blan- 
kets and utensils. 

When we left Beaver Creek marsh the 
weather had changed, and the day was rainy 
and misty. At dark we had reached the 
Kankakee and camped in a little hollow, hav- 
ing left the hogs a mile or so back. It rained 
hard a portion of the night, and then the wind 
178 



changed and it began freezing. The water 
gradually worked under the blanket and buffalo 
robe in which I had wrapped myself, and on 
attempting to rise I found myself frozen 
fast to the ground, and had much difficulty in 
freeing myself. 

In the morning we gathered the hogs and 
drove them to the hollow in which we had 
camped, where we left them with our horses 
and started to find Billy Caldwell, who I knew 
was camped somewhere near Yellow Head 
Point, which was about six miles from Kan- 
kakee. Following up the creek we found him 
without difficulty, and were hospitably received 
by both Caldwell and his wife. Mrs. Caldwell 
made us some tea, and never in my Hfe did I 
drink such quantities of anything as I did of that. 

We remained at Caldwell's a day and night, 
when we again started the hogs for Chicago, 
where we arrived in about thirty days. The 
snow was about two feet deep on a level and 
four or five feet in the drifts. I killed and 
delivered my pork, and with empty wagons 
started on my return to Iroquois. Much of 
the way we were compelled to cut a passage 
through the snow and ice, and were ten days 
in making the trip. We had lost some of the 
hogs, and on our return we found one poor 
brute under the snow, where he had managed 
to subsist upon the roots of grass. Of course 
we killed him to save him from the slow tor- 
ture of starvation. 

179 



€I)e auto6iograpI)p of 



It was a bitter cold night when we arrived 
at the Kankakee River, which we found very- 
high and full of floating ice, with no possibility 
of fording it. My wagon was one of those 
heavy, large-box vehicles called a "Pennsylvania 
wagon," the box of which we chinked with 
snow, over which we poured water, which 
soon froze and made it water tight. Into this 
we put our harness, blankets, and utensils, and 
using it for a boat passed safely over, the 
horses being made to swim after. From this 
point we progressed at the rate of five to eight 
miles a day, and camped at Beaver Creek the 
evening of the second day thereafter. It had 
again rained, and all the channels and streams 
were high, and Beaver Creek had overflowed 
its banks, so I determined to go from there to 
Iroquois alone and send a man back with a 
horse and canoe to help get the others across. 
I cut a diy tree for a raft and got onto it, 
when an Indian, who was one of the party, 
said he wanted to cross also. I told him it 
was impossible; that the tree would only hold 
one, and he must wait for the canoe which I 
would send. We had a long rope which he 
proposed to tie to the log, and so draw it back 
after I had crossed, and to this I foohshly 
assented. When I had reached the middle 
of the stream I found I could advance no 
further, and on looking back found the Indian 
was holding the rope too tight, and I called to 
him to let go. On his doing so, and the log 
i8o 



4Butticm ^alton^tall i^u66atti 

being released, it turned suddenly over and 
threw me into the stream. I swam ashore, 
and when I landed my clothes were frozen 
stiff, and I was near perishing with the cold. 

My favorite horse, "Croppy," who had 
watched my departure and progress, was much 
excited, and neighed, pawed the ground, and 
whinnied so that I decided to allow him to 
come across. I called to Vasseur and told him 
to get my dry neips and moccasins from my 
saddle-bags, place them on the horse's head 
under the headstall, and let him loose. I 
called to Croppy and he swam across to me. 

The bank was precipitous, and I had great 
difficulty in getting him up, he having drifted 
down below the ford, but I finally succeeded. 
I was sheeted with ice, but by alternately 
riding and running, made the sixteen miles to 
my house in good time, and sent Portier back 
with a horse and canoe loaded with provisions 
for the men and corn for the horses. 

The canoe was used as a sleigh, and in it 
Portier rode and drove. He reached the men 
late at night and with his feet badly frozen. 
The day following all crossed the stream and 
arrived at home. We had been twenty days 
traveling seventy-five miles. 

I had a small outfit up the Kankakee River, 
about six or eight miles from where "Hub- 
bard's Trail" crossed the Kankakee, where 
two men were located. A day or so before 
the occurrence above narrated, one of these 
i8i 



<©urtion J>aIton^tafl i^uBBarD 

men started for my trading house, and in at- 
tempting to cross Beaver Creek, at or near the 
place where I crossed, was drowned. Not 
returning as soon as he was expected, his 
companion sent an Indian to notify me of his 
absence, and search was made for him, but 
nothing could be seen or heard of him. The 
following spring an Indian going up Beaver 
Creek in a canoe, found his skeleton lodged in 
the branches of a fallen tree, about ten miles 
below the crossing, to which place it had been 
carried by the current. 



Note. — The foregoing narrative brings the story 
of Mr. Hubbard down to November, 1830, where it 
ends abruptly, having covered just one third of his 
life. In the Introduction preceding this short Auto- 
biography, an attempt has been made merely to 
enumerate the activities of the fifty-six years that 
followed, as they could be gathered from letters, 
memoranda, personal reminiscences of contempo- 
raries, and from the pages of our city's recorded 
history, which must have read quite otherwise than 
they do had it not been for Gurdon S. Hubbard, who 
has been called "The Prototype of Chicago." 

C. M. M. 



182 



JAN 5 1912 



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